#and also she’s hot which is great for me!! but also the male gaze

[dramarants]

Wanting more homoeroticism in the tension between the show’s leads as the narrative introduces greater intimacy and higher stakes between them, especially in a landscape that lacks queer representation who isn’t a villain or dies within one or two episodes, but also recognizing that core values/motivation for these characters lie in their relationships with one of two major female characters in an on screen sausage fest where the only other woman is a morally reprehensible femme fatale and erasing and/or vilifying female leads in favor of conventionally attractive males is a common practice observed in fandoms that’s rooted in misogyny and justified under the guise of rejecting heteronormativity, thinly veiled double standards, or claiming the woman is simply not interesting enough and not wanting to bolster that mindset

[anystalker707]

Stop playing

Pairing: Suguru Geto x [male, amab] Reader Summary: Halloween night. Suguru has been teasing you for a while, but this is the last straw - he dressed up as your new fictional crush, König. That's personal. Tags: Bottom suguru / light choking / in the club's restroom / he thinks he's cool

Requested by @josukeslefttitty

Shibuya, October 31st

          Thankfully, everyone was as invested in their Halloween costumes as you, so you didn’t feel out of place as your friends walked down the streets, sometimes attracting curious eyes. Other people also wore costumes, attracting your attention instead. The streets of Shibuya slowly got more agitated, even if you were still in the first hours of the night of Halloween. The chilly air of autumn didn’t seem to bother anyone too much, only contributing to the more intricate costumes, if anything, though some people defied the temperature anyway.

Satoru and Ieiri had decided it would be best to go for a pre-party—which everyone agreed with—to grab drinks and snacks at a convenience store before going to the real destination. Ieiri had a hand on Yu’s shoulder as she talked about something that made him blush a little; Kento walked beside them, ignoring Yu’s attempts to push him into the conversation and Satoru’s annoying comments. You had tried to get Utahime to come along, but she had spilled a lot of things about not hanging out with kids, so…

You and Suguru walked a few steps behind them, your attention focused on Satoru’s banter until you just snapped out of it and sighed, looking around the streets that kept lightened up by the glowing billboards and signs despite the darkening sky.

“You know,” Suguru’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts, attracting your gaze to his. His brown irises stood out with the black makeup around his eyes—you wondered how he’d look with that mask on, but he’d only been carrying it along with the helmet under his arm, so far. “We need to take a picture together later. Just the two of us. You’re looking really nice.”

A smile spread across your face at Suguru’s words, at the same time a warm feeling fluttered in your chest. “Of course, yeah, that’d be fantastic.”

It was difficult to ignore how Suguru looked in those clothes. He had dressed as your new fictional heartthrob for Halloween, rocking the military aesthetic and the feral air it had. Did he see the posts you’d made about König or something? Was it intentional? Damn. It was mostly accurate, missing some gear around the torso, but it was understandable, given the mobility. The beige cargo pants were a little tight, probably borrowed from someone else, leaving a nice space for imagination whenever you observed him a little too much. The outfit fit him so well that it was hard not to pull him closer and…

“Do you think my costume looks nice? I did my best to make it as accurate as I could.” Suguru asked, looking down at himself and then back at you with those charming eyes, as if he knew something you didn’t. Fucker.

“Yeah,” you muttered with a hum, glancing down at his outfit without checking him out that much, even if he’d potentially caught you staring earlier. It was difficult to determine whether you were being discreet or not while so immersed in thoughts. “Looks pretty good, though I haven’t seen you with the mask yet.”

Suguru raised his eyebrows as the smile on his lips widened, and he hummed. “Oh, right. Satoru and Shoko were bothering me about it earlier, so I ended up taking it off and forgot to put it back on. It’s not that great, just some shirt I cut holes in and tried to make it more accurate.” He stopped walking for a little just to put on the helmet and adjust the mask, doing it quickly, in a way you didn’t need to rush a lot to catch up with the others. “So?” His brown eyes blinked a couple of times through the holes in the mask, and your heart skipped a beat just at that.

“Oh,” you muttered, trying to keep your thoughts on track, and not about how hot he’d look… “Yeah, amazing,” you said with a nod. Suguru had to be doing that on purpose, no matter how you couldn’t find the familiar air of tease in his eyes when he looked at you.

At some point, Satoru had the helmet on instead as he walked around the convenience store, but Suguru kept the mask. He stood by Shoko with his arms crossed under his chest and weight over one of his legs in a way his hip popped out a little, talking with her absentmindedly, while she looked at cigarette boxes displayed behind a glass. How did he manage to be so hot while he wasn’t even trying?

Whatever Shoko said, it resulted in Suguru chuckling as he grabbed her hand and turned her palm up, tracing something on it. You wondered how it’d feel on you instead.

It made your thoughts race again, taking another turn as you forgot about what you were doing until Satoru shoved another glass of beer into your hand.

“Heh, what’s in your mind, (y/n)? I hope it doesn’t have to do with Suguru’s thighs.” He paused as he looked toward Suguru and sighed, shaking his head as if he longed for them. Maybe he did. Motherfucker.

“Just thinking,” you quickly excused, adjusting the beer bottles and cans of energy drink in your arms. “Shoko looks good,” you averted the subject, hoping he would buy it, and thankfully, Satoru seemed to be only using one brain cell right now, as usual.

“Oh, wait, we also need some candies. I want to make a drink with sour candies,” he muttered, pulling you along to the other side of the convenience store, but your eyes lingered on Suguru, meeting his gaze for a second.

          Suguru dismissed your company on the way to the club, instead letting Satoru link arms with him while ranting about god knows what. Why did he decide to leave you? Had you become boring? Was he playing more games? A sigh escaped your lips as you shook your thoughts away.

“So…” Ieiri suddenly showed up next to you with a grin, rolling a lollipop around her mouth, one she’d grabbed from the counter at the convenience store. She read you very well. Just the way she looked at you compelled you to look away, shaking your head again; she giggled. “Yeah, there we go again.”

“Don’t say anything,” you told her with a playful pout, holding back a smile that threatened to grow even more at how she giggled again.

Shoko opened her mouth a couple of times, but whatever she pondered saying, was replaced by a simple shrug as she patted your arm lightly. Alright. Well, you had other things to focus on right now, and one of them was absolutely how Suguru’s ass looked in those tight cargos. If only you had the chance to squeeze it. Your hand ached just at the thought—just like your cock threatened to come to life.

Things only got more difficult as you arrived at the club. Despite the great number of people, the place wasn’t cramped up. It was a nice, clean club with cool Halloween decorations hanging around, selling themed drinks, as also themed songs played in the background. The smell of artificial fog lingered in the air as it rose, making the colorful lights more visible.

Kento sat with you on the same couch in a calmer area, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone or taking pictures of the others when requested. He talked to you a bit, but the conversation quickly dissipated.

Your mind couldn’t keep track of a chat while Suguru walked around like that, like a piece of meat waiting to be eaten. One that was supposed to be yours and not be touched by everyone like that. What was Suguru even trying to do? He didn’t like being touched that much, so there was no reason to keep a hand around Shoko’s waist like that or let Satoru keep resting a hand on his chest. Why couldn’t you do it, though? Only you. It made something burn in your chest, stiffening your muscles as you tried your best not to get up and do something. Hopefully, the glass of cocktail covered part of your annoyed expression.

It was, however, when you saw Suguru allow Satoru to pull his shirt up to take a look at his bare skin that you almost crushed the glass you held. Kento even glanced at you when you inhaled sharply, setting the glass down on the small table nearby before you stood up, eyes trained on the side of Suguru’s head.

Maybe you should focus on something else. You put the glass away and shook your head, trying to shake away the feeling and the thoughts as well. There was a nice song playing, so you moved over to the dance floor, squeezing past people to get on there with them—in contrast to the other areas of the club, the dance floor was crowded, full of people wanting to party the night away.

A couple of minutes passed by when you noticed the familiar costume, and your eyes widened a little noticing, Suguru there also dancing with you—no helmet again, which led you to presume Satoru had stolen it once more. It was okay, at first, but then he started pressing close, glued to you until his ass was practically grinding against your crotch. You gently pushed him away, but he stepped back again. Fucking hell…

“Suguru?” You talked into his ear, loud enough for him to hear over the loud music. “What are you—”

“It’s too cramped here,” he replied immediately, naturally, “what else am I supposed to do while it’s this crowded?”

What was he supposed to do? What were you supposed to do while he tortured you all night long? Fuck it.

Your hand wrapped around Suguru’s wrist to drag him with you without caring who was in the way.

You walked into the restroom with Suguru right behind you, the music becoming muffled as you walked into the space. It was well-kept, really, with no strong smells, black walls, and red-tinted LEDs above the mirror that stretched itself along the wall, over the silver taps on the black marble counter, and the doors to the stalls were also black. Only one person was in there, already leaving after washing their hands. Suguru stepped aside and watched them leave, about to say something when you closed the door and locked it.

Suguru’s eyes widened a little through the holes of the mask, and you imagined if he already presumed what would happen. Either way, he didn’t have time to speak anything—you pinned him to the counter first, a hand by each side of his hips as you looked at him in the eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice didn’t carry the same light tone from before, now with a tone that matched your serious look.

Suguru didn’t know where to put his hands, letting them hand in the air before they slowly settled down on the edge of the counter as well, beside yours. His breath was caught in his throat as his wide eyes watched you, blinking a couple of times as if it would help him think properly, but it didn’t do much. He gulped and was thankful he had his face covered. “What do you—”

“Come on, don’t play dumb,” you exhaled, placing a hand on Suguru’s chest, right in the middle, almost feeling his racing heart under your palm. Your fingers ran up and settled under his chin through the mask, keeping his gaze on you. “You know exactly what you are doing, and I can’t take it anymore.”

You wanted to kiss Suguru on the lips, but the mask was in the way, and he looked so hot wearing it… It could stay on for now.

“If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.” Your eyes held Suguru’s gaze to prove the seriousness of your words, before your hands sneaked under his shirt to hold his waist, rubbing soft circles into his warm skin.

It almost felt unreal to finally be touching Suguru like that, with something buzzing under your skin as you tried to figure out what to do with him now that you had the opportunity. The list was long, that was the problem. It went from just playing with his nipples to pulling his hair back to watch the face he would make when your cock still bullied his prostate after an orgasm. What were you supposed to choose? If only you had all the time and privacy you wanted…

You pressed your lips together to contain the will to kiss Suguru, making him face the other way and looking at him through the mirror instead. Tension laced Suguru’s actions as well, but it was similar to the one you felt, with blood hammering in your ears while the arousal rushed through your veins and spread a warm feeling in your lower stomach. A bulge was visible in Suguru’s pants, struggling in the tight fabric of the beige cargos.

“Fuck, you must be sadistic or something, with the way you kept doing that…” You exhaled, hands returning to the marble edge by each of Suguru’s hips. Your eyes fell to Suguru’s hands, observing them curled into fists as their heels pressed to the marble, growing tenser when your hips pressed to his ass.

Suguru’s breath faltered a little, eventually growing heavier as you started grinding your erection against his ass. The silence that came from him gave you doubts that were quickly dismissed when he adjusted his position and moved his hips in sync, eventually snatching a moan from you as your cock got completely hard. Just the dry humping felt so good when it wasn’t with something like a pillow or someone you actually desired.

Eventually, though, Suguru cracked a breathy chuckle—it was hard to identify it without a full view of his face, but you could imagine a smirk tugging on his lips. “Please,” Suguru moaned, and his eyes were closed when you looked at him in the mirror, even if it was a little difficult to tell that. Hearing him ask for more made your skin rise in shivers as a wave of excitement ran down your spine, irises turning into thin rings around your blown pupils. He leaned forward until his elbows met the marble, pressing his ass back against your crotch with it.

“Oh, now you’re talking,” you muttered, much to his amusement, hooking your thumbs around his waistband to trail along it until both your hands met the buckle of the belt and started to undo it, and then the buttons, making it possible to lower his pants to about the middle of his thighs. Your tented-up pants pressed to his bare ass, and it was such a sight, compelling your cock to twitch in demand for attention.

You fished the packet of lube and the condom from your pocket before also lowering your pants and underwear, letting your cock rest heavily against his ass. Damn, you wished you could take a picture of it right now. Suguru even arched his back a little more, pressing himself back against your cock.

Suguru’s eyes observed you through the mirror, with anticipation and a shared need. His eyes narrowed lightly when you raised your eyebrows, sighing as you unpacked the condom and rolled it in before squeezing the lube over your cock, letting some drip on Suguru’s hole. Your thumb pressed to his hole, feeling it flutter under your touch until the ring of muscles gave in under your touch, and you could slip your finger in.

Not a lot of resistance greeted your thumb as it slowly dived deeper into Suguru’s walls, spreading the lube nicely. He groaned a little, walls clenching around your finger; his hips threatened to move, but you held him still with a hand around his waist.

“Feel good?” You tried to snatch more words from him, to get more of the feeling that stirred in your lower stomach with that attitude of his. “Come on, Suguru, I want you to tell me more about what you want.”

Once again, Suguru looked at you through the mirror. A weak sound escaped his throat when your finger pushed in deeper, slowly starting to thrust in and out of him. “I want you, idiot,” he breathed with a whimper, clenching around your finger. You limited yourself to smirking to prevent a chuckle. His voice was quiet, almost unintelligible under the muffled, beating song that came from outside, making you wish you’d find another opportunity to have him like that just to appreciate his sounds properly. “I— Damn it, fuck me already,” he breathed sharply and let his head hang in defeat, drawing a chuckle from you. Alright, alright.

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” you said with a pleased sigh, with a new boost of arousal.

Your hand held the base of your cock, guiding it to Suguru’s entrance and pushing just the tip in at first, testing the waters. Suguru groaned, back arching as he pushed his hips back, so you continued. “Fuck,” you breathed, taking a deep breath to get through the sensation of his walls slowly accommodating around your cock. One of his hands reached back, holding on firmly to the forearm of the hand you’d pressed to his waist.

“Fucking finally,” Suguru said with a whiny moan, relaxing more over the counter. Of course, he’d let you do all the job.

The sensation of finally being inside Suguru like you’d daydreamed about so many times before was intoxicating, in a way that you needed to take a few deep breaths while thrusting in and out of him, slowly, watching your cock disappear in his ass a couple of times before looking at him through the mirror again. He looked so hot with that mask on, really.

A quiet curse fell incoherent under a moan as you settled down for a steady pace, slowly filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin. He felt so good around you, clenching around your cock so deliciously.

“How long have you been playing this game?” You breathed to Suguru, hooking an arm around his torso to press a hand to his chest, with his collarbones right under your index finger and thumb. A little pressure there was enough to have him leaning up enough for your head to be right next to his while you still thrust into him with the same intensity. “I almost believed I was making things up until you gave me no choice,” you said through a groan, tightening your grip around his waist, and letting your fingers sink into the soft skin.

Suguru gasped, a higher-pitched moan spilling from his lips as he arched his back, squeezing your forearm in some sort of response. “You’re just too slow, mmph— Fuckin’ took you forever.” His other hand pressed to the surface of the marble to help support himself up, even more so after your thrusts started getting faster. “It was s—so fun watching your desperate face whenever I did something, so st—stupid— Ahhh—” Suguru interrupted himself with a moan when you started thrusting sharply, moving your hand from his waist to grasp the base of his cock tightly. He hissed, holding on to the edge of the counter instead.

“Fuck off, I’m still gonna make you regret that,” you groaned. Your hand slipped under the mask, taking firm hold of Suguru’s neck; his skin was warm and sweaty, and his throat moved against your palm as he swallowed thickly. “I should’ve done this before,” you groaned, squeezing Suguru’s neck before he could make any funny comment again. “Did you think it was funny to dress up as my game crush and go around with those tight pants, letting everyone feel you up? Are you that desperate? Fucking shameful.”

“Well,” Suguru breathed, and you imagined he was smirking again. Motherfucker. “Maybe if you weren’t so slow… Nngh…” His back arched, cock twitching on your palm.

Was he making those remarks on purpose? Did he make them just for the way you responded? Damn it. Your hand tightened around his neck—not enough to cut off his air—, and you fucked him hard enough for his body to start rocking every time your hips met his ass.

The thought of Suguru teasing you all this time just to play clueless when you approached the subject, looking at you with that mischievous gaze… Your cock twitched, balls tightening as you could feel your orgasm in the distance, so you invested in fucking Suguru in that angle that made his ass milk your cock so deliciously, making him bend down forward a little more.

Suguru’s arms were trembling from holding himself up like that, but he knew better than to give up to the weakness that slowly crept up his muscles, fighting against it as he focused on the pleasure you made him feel. He could barely contain his moans, and the fact you were at a club vanished in the back of your mind.

“There’s still so much stuff I wanna do to you,” you breathed, observing Suguru’s eyes rolling back through the mirror.

Whatever he said in response fell incoherent through moans that only grew breathier and longer as you ran your hand up and down his cock slowly, and it was all it took for him to finally cum. His ass squeezed around your cock, driving you to the edge at the same time; shivers ran up your thighs before your balls tightened, and you finally came, thrusts stuttering as you rode through your orgasm.

A soft, last cry of pleasure escaped Suguru’s lips before your movements finally ceased. The tiredness became more evident after the urgency wore out, with blood hammering in your ears while your chest heaved up and down with your pants, but it didn’t stop you from lifting Suguru’s mask and pulling him for a kiss. The position wasn’t the best, all awkward and difficult, but both of you needed that kiss to the same extreme levels, groaning into each other’s mouth while trying your best to take as much as you could from the kiss, including tongues and teeth here and there.

“This is security,” the sudden voice cut sharply through the whole mood, making both of you freeze as a heavy banging came from the door. “Is anyone in there?”

✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☽⋆⁺₊✧

[godofsmallthings]

im obsessed with ur posting about tessa violet so like say i wanted to get into her where should i start :o

omg YAY!!!! she only has 2 albums out (technically 3 but her first one was with a label who took it off streaming/digital sales and it's way more singer-songwriter nashville girlie and i think it's great but it sounds nothing like her current sound...but i digress) so it's not a ton to get through. but if you want some songs to start with i'd recommend not over you, crush, games, words ain't enough, MY GOD!, kitchen song (there's a demo of this that's also on streaming and it's the sweetest everrrr), YES MOM, good things go bad, & you are not my friend. i just listed those in chronological release order but if ur into music videos here's 3 i'd start with :)

crush is essentially the start of what has become the current sound/vibe of the tessa violet project. she'd been making music for ages before this, but this is the first appearance of the classic yellow bob and the song is just SO FUN!

i like (the idea of) you is a fun song with a lil cheeky double meaning moment but honestly i'm just suggesting this video because everyone is so hot. i feel like this was the start of the confidence/choreo/stage presence she now exudes all the time.

MY GOD! well yeah i mean yeah i mean i am looking respectfully. i love a sexy video that doesn't feel male gaze-y. you'll see what i mean. i also thought the two dancers kissing was a sweet homage to the inspiration behind this song.

bonus brunette tessa video for make me a robot which was one of her older songs that i remember being pretty big on youtube/amoung her fans :)

happy listening!!

[bergeronprocess]

The Anime I Watched in 2022

I really got into watching anime this year! Previously, I had been content to just use Funimation and Crunchyroll's free tiers and just wait a week for new episodes. But with the merger, and Crunchyroll's declaration that new shows would no longer be available at all to free users, I grit my teeth and got a premium subscription. (Hot tip, Crunchyroll - PROFILES. For the love of God, add separate profiles to an account. I share with my brother in law because he shares lots of streamers with us and it's the least we can do, but our tastes in anime are VERY different - he loves boxing/fighting/sports anime and I'm all like iyashikei/girls doin' stuff/idol anime lol.

ANYWAY. I have made great use of this paid account this year. According to my Anime Planet account, I watched 14 shows this year (ok actually 13 because it counts both cours/seasons of Spy x Family as separate shows) and I am going to reflect on each of them below.

Winter 2022

My Dress-Up Darling: Oh, this definitely belongs in the small group of shows I watched that fumbled the bag, that messed up their interesting concept somehow. In the case of Dress-Up, it's...you know. The fanservice. The blatant and inescapable male gaze on these characters, who are all minors. When they introduced the sisters, one of whom is very tall and large-chested and the other of whom is very short and small-chested, I almost tapped out then because I knew it just wasn't going to go well. And I was right! It didn't!

Here! Here's a great video by The Anime Tea that talks about this issue. It got age restricted a while ago, which should tell you everything you need to know about this show - even just criticism of it that shows clips from it is enough to make Youtube go "whoa, this is only for adults."

They almost tried to handle the idea of teenage sexuality well (I recall a scene of Marin on the train reflecting on Gojo's grandpa assuming they were going to have sex and she's like "Would it be so awful if we did?" Like, no, dear, it wouldn't! Not if you both know what you want, talk about it, consent, stay safe, all that good stuff) and then they did that love hotel episode instead. ROBLOX OOF DOT MP3 10 HOURS BASS BOOSTED

Also, I just kinda didn't like how it talked about cosplay. It's like hey you can do cosplay! Yeah! But only if you modify your body to look exactly like the character! Shave your eyebrows! Bind your chest! DO BLACKFACE oh god I had forgotten about the blackface I'm going to just go outside and yell for a minute

so uhhh yeahhhh that wasn't great

the ending song is fun tho

Spring 2022

This was when I got the paid subscription lol

Aharen-san wa Hakarenai: This is hands down my favorite anime of the year. The characters are just so silly and goofy and charming and relatable. I kinda wish they had localized the name of the show so it could be a bit easier to recommend, but once I learned that hakarenai literally means indecipherable, I see that was probably a creative decision BY the localizer(s) - gosh if only they weren't rendered anonymous by NDAs/a lack of crediting, I think it would be cool to follow them on social media and see if they did a like "behind the anime" where they talk about that - and I appreciate that.

There were a couple of random and unnecessary segments with dieting and weight gain/loss discussion that could have been left on the cutting room floor, but that's literally the only bad thing I can think of. (Okay, Momo-chan-sensei was kind of A Bit Much, lol.) There's even a lovely moment with Aharen's little brother wearing her clothes and worrying about if she might be angered by it, but she reassures him and welcomes it.

My husband started watching this with me because we do physically resemble Aharen and Raidou in that I am a foot shorter than him...and he loved it! Especially when the teacher takes everyone camping and just casually drifts the hell out of her Honda minivan, smiling while all the students scream in fear. The camping episodes were very sweet. It all worked out well in the end. I started playing claw games at Round1 because of this show. I'm actually kind of good at them - I won six plushies one time.

If nothing else, please just watch this one credits scene to get an idea of the vibe.

Spy x Family (also in Fall 2022): I mean, what's to say that hasn't already been said? It's great! I recall the first couple of episodes felt a bit off to me, tone-wise - like alternately too rushed and too slow? idk - but then it found its stride. I love Yor. I love Anya. I love the Cold War Germany setting. My husband likes to watch this show with me now, to the point that I'm still sitting on last week's episode so we can watch together. I've heard the German dub is really good but haven't checked it out yet.

Deaimon: A very pretty looking show that focuses on an ugly topic - trauma - with abandoned child finding and bonding with a new family while still pining for her old one. I learned a lot about wagashi from this show and I like how it didn't end with everything all tied up in a pretty little bow. That feels more realistic. Much as we may have wanted Itsuka to have a teary reunion with her dad and for everything to happily fade to black, that's not what real life is like.

Also I literally only just learned that Maaya Sakamoto did the opening theme?! How did I not notice that lol I was truly just going to the show's Anime News Network page to refresh my memory about how the season ended. Wow, a theme song by one of the GOATs of anison!

Healer Girl: A magical girl show that isn't grimdark!!! In fact, it's wholesome and uplifting! The idea of a world where singing can heal people, and is used alongside Western or Eastern medicine for patient care, just hooked me in from episode 1. I'm not a big musical person, but if you are, I think you will especially appreciate the times when, like, the girls all sing instead of just having a spoken conversation. The songs are very pretty. I love how it came full circle with Kana both being healed and doing healing on a plane. Just the perfect encapsulation of like, hey, you studied hard, you got licensed, you can do this thing now, and you do it, and you feel like you're on top of the world.

I definitely recommend this one too.

Heroines Run the Show: Oh look! Another show that fumbled the bag!! The concept sounded very fun, I liked the character of Hiyori so much, the two idol guys she worked with were annoying but in an "ugh will you two just kiss already" kind of way...and then they were like hey! What if we have a character so devoted and delusional that she blackmails her friend, and literally physically hurts her, because she is proximate to her faves? And what if we made the narrative decision that she was in the RIGHT to have done so? And what if all of that stuff is easily forgiven, wrapped up in a pretty little bow, like 1.5 episodes later? THAT was when I was like okay this sucks!

Love Live Nijigasaki Season 2: Niji is my absolute favorite iteration of Love Live, so of COURSE I was going to love this, and I very certainly did. I wish they could've given us a R3BIRTH song in the finale - instead we just got a pose that implies they have already formed and started performing but just offstage - but that's minor. I am glad they didn't just adapt the game's storyline exactly. Shioriko was definitely kind of a heel in the game lol.

The opening vibes feel perfect for this time of year, so hey why not just share it here!

Gosh, if only this could get a season 3 as well! (Sigh...more on that later.) But we will be getting a movie/OVA and a 4-koma style show next year, so I'll still be eatin' good. Oh, I just realized - could these two pieces of media feature a different voice actor for Setsuna? I was very sorry to hear that Tomori needed to step down, but I understand it fully and, if these shows will indeed feature someone new, I look forward to hearing her give life to Setsuna too.

Summer 2022

Love Live Superstar Season 2: This fumbled the bag for me as well. Something just felt super off about the pacing the whole time and the songs didn't really hit for me (except the ending song, which was nice and the animation for it was lovely). Either we were spending way too much damn time on training sequences or we were watching Sumire and Keke bicker. Meanwhile all Wien did was come in and say Kanon's name every so often, except at the very end when she's the one who hits us with the swerve about the canceled study abroad. (Nijigasaki handled/is going to handle the idea of a character doing study abroad so much better lol) Congrats on the unprecedented third season I guess (Sunshine would've been a much better candidate to get a third season that focuses on the six remaining members of Aqours as they navigate their new school, their new reality without the third years, etc - no the Yohane isekai fantasy show thingy coming out next year does not count as a third season, though I AM interested in it), maybe use that next block of episodes to try to flesh out these characters. Please give Kinako some flowers!

That was literally all I watched this season lol.

Fall 2022

Fall heard that summer was a blah season and was like CHECK THIS OUT and check it out I did

Bocchi the Rock: Love this show. So does everyone else, because it is GREAT! Yes, I relate to Bocchi very much, so that may have something to do with my enjoyment of it lol. But I also love seeing exactly what kind of unusual form of artistic expression the animators are going to use this week. From paper puppets to zoetropes, claymation to Evangelion-style regression, they were unafraid to try even the weirdest and most offbeat stuff - and it hit the mark every time.

Doesn't hurt that the music genuinely slaps, too. Even as an idol anime fan, I do like that this was more realistic - ticket quotas, song writers' block, indifferent audiences, the specter of alcohol abuse. It's also great to see how so many talented artists have drawn Kessoku Band in the style of famous real-life album covers.

It would be great to see these characters again in a season 2.

Gundam The Witch from Mercury: Congrats to G-Witch for bringing me back into the Gundam fold for the first time since Wing was on American TV in the late 90s/early 00s! Another universally loved show that has absolutely earned its adoration. I feel like episode 12 will just be the start of things, not the end, especially since Gundam shows usually get runs of about 50 episodes or so.

G-Witch gets a special award for not being super fatphobic too! There are multiple characters who have larger bodies and one of them is even a girl who is very popular with boys (Lilique, my sweet little cupcake. I hope to God nothing bad happens to you), which definitely is not the role usually inhabited by the fat girl. There is one scene where a guy makes a crack about another guy not being able to fit his belly into a pilot suit, but the guy literally floats down and shuts that shit down right away. The show also gets another special award for drawing Black characters in a way that does not feel uncomfortable (at least to me, and granted I am a white woman so I can only speak for my personal feelings, but still).

And the opening and ending songs are both bops too lol

I'm the Villainess So I'm Taming the Final Boss: This one kiiiinda fumbled the bag a bit what with its "what is the opposite of sakuga because that's what's going on here" animation style and its pedal-to-the-metal speedrun of the material. Plus I didn't super like the contrived memory loss plotline of the third segment. But I adore Aileen and Claude so much that I can't just say this one totally fumbled the bag. I DID buy the first 3 light novels and the first manga volume this year - now I need to dig in because from literally all accounts, everyone says those are much better.

Do It Yourself!!: Hey, it's the girls doin' stuff genre! A favorite of mine! Especially when it's also a hobby show - I was reminded of Let's Make a Mug Too, which I also enjoyed a lot. I did not super like that Purin is practically the definition of tsundere for 11.5 episodes (I was literally just yelling OH MY GOD JUST BE HONEST IT WON'T KILL YOU at my TV a few times...I don't like the concept of tsundere much lol) and they should have cast a voice actor for Jobko who was more fluent in English because frankly it was hard to comprehend her sometimes (I know Sally Amaki and Shu Uchida can't work every role, but surely they can't be the only working seiyuu with English fluency), but those were my only two issues and those are pretty minor really.

I especially liked how the club advisor got all the club alumni to pitch in and help build the treehouse when the materials were accidentally discarded - helping through the generations! While a second season would be nice here (I totally feel like the two girls who asked to tour the treehouse would've joined up, thus allowing the club to be at 5 members who actually go to Gatagata and 2 who don't), I don't think it's super necessary because the story wrapped up well.

The Little Lies We All Tell: If this had just aired in the weak summer season instead of the strong fall one, I think it would've caught on more. It's so goofy and funny (I laughed out loud at the Evangelion references) AND it managed to not do anything really gross with the concept of "This is Tsubasa, who is actually a boy pretending to be a girl because his identical twin sister wants to go to a boys' school to be near her favorite idols". Heck, there was even an episode where, due to alien magic, Tsubasa DOES temporarily lose uhh a certain body part and is like "hey this is pretty good actually, I was freaked out at first but now I'm alright".

The only "ugh, don't love this" thing was how Sekine using her psychic powers to their fullest potential temporarily gives her a large belly and she tries to avoid this at all costs. Damn, fatphobia really is literally everywhere, isn't it?

Also Chiemi Tanaka deserves the "she has the range" award for this show. Rikka usually has a very high-pitched cute girl voice, but her inner monologue often uses a deeper and more serious voice, and she effortlessly switches between the two at the drop of a hat. Look at Rina Tennoji's voice actor crushing it!

But overall, this is just a goofy little show that's kind of in the same vein as Azumanga Daioh, Nichijou, things like that, and I hate that it got overshadowed by literally everything else lol.

Woo! What a great year of anime - looking forward to 2023!

[abri-chan]

Regarding sadistic beauty bl side story... Why is it so toxic? 🤔 I somewhat can understand 90/mid-2000 even like bl stories ten years ago that skip over repercussions of rape and glorify toxic, abusive relationships... But this author was aware of these, hell since she has twitter she was definitely made aware through feedback... It's 2022 and yet again and again I see this trope in the story, where main character despite awareness of abuse they go through still ends up with abuser and it's presented either as somewhat happy ending or, like in Minho case, as inevitable, which might be worse... Like, why is it so normalised in bl stories? Authors main Sadistic Beauty ending presented similarly, but it's through abuser pov (Duna), not abused (they are in bdsm relationship, but honestly Duna more than once goes over boundaries)... and that ending wasn't depressing and in a light "at least I'm not lonely" :/ Not to mention since when WK became Minho's fifth most important person? He shouldn't even be in top 1000 after what he did... Sick story. I blame patriarchy x) But seriously... wtf

so... i agree BL has some romanticized, or at the very least normalized dish of abuse that wouldn't extend to other stories.

My personal opinion on all this? I think the writer can't be made to willingly write m/m stories. That is no way mean to shame her; it is well and valid for an author to only want to write stories centered around women, which translates to f/m and f/f ships only. Sadistic Beauty (the main comic) did this, and it worked great for the plot, that is not just separate smut scenes that were hot (SB BL had this too!), but a sense of where the story is going as though some overall plan has been laid out. Unfortunately, BL sells way more than f/f or f/m (and boy do we need good f/m with some decent female leads and away from the male gaze), and the Sadistic Beauty spinoff was in my opinion because of two possibilities: 1) the writer tried to milk the bl popularity (unlikely) and 2) the writer really wanted to close up the plot-threads for the remaining characters of the Duna-harem, but she overestimated how much her heart was into writing m/m, realized it half-way in, and defaulted to generic bl tropes for each chapter. That is to say, the plot of SB BL became a piece of paper pulled out of a hat as to what generic abuse WK will pull on Minho this chapter. Don't get me wrong, I think the spinoff had some moments or insights (I really loved how the visuals portraying Minho's depression and suicidal tension, and I think the writer does have hot sex scenes, which by themselves can be quite good--Minho taking the lead and WK being assigned to bottom for once, right before Minho decided to attempt suicide.), but overall those are few and far in between, and the overall plot was left hanging: won't WK have no money now that mom cut him off? will the cues about Minho loving writing over Duna lead nowhere, that is won't we see any hint of Minho going back to writing and having self-realization that extends beyond being with WK? will WK learn shit from this story (no he wont', he got Minho in the end after throwing a fit, and he didn't have to change a thing. Because he also wanted to get rid of his mom, and he cut ties, so Minho was only cinder in a fire that already existed to push him to do so)? I was reading some other "unhealthy" BLs as I was reading this spinoff and the spinoff gave me flashback to many of the same scenes even I had seen in those mangas: chain to bed, kill him if he leaves, uke somewhat never makes the smart decision of getting out when he can... etc etc...

So in short, my take with the spinoff is not how healthy or unhealthy it was, but lack of direction, where the twists or scenes felt copy-cat but done with better art or sensibility, but nothing that kept me wanting to re-read like the main Sadistic Beauty. I think maybe the writer eventually realized where her passion lies, so who knows, she may not write any m/m in the future because she always want a woman in the mix. In a way, I respect that, and that also provides an answer to everyone that complained by SB had all men available to Duna and no proper m/m relationships, as in strictly gay: it is because the manga was meant for women, and it pandered to women (boo hoo, deal with it, pandering to women for once), so similarly to how in anything pandering to men all women are straight or bi, but never lesbian because the man needs to insert himself, all men were bi or straight in SB, and all women were bi or lesbian, so Duna, and in that way, the female reader, could insert herself in any situation. I don't think the writer is under any obligation to give us strictly male gay couples; don't like, don't read. I did wish the BL spinoff tied more ends though, not so much that I care about m/m, but because WK was my favorite male character from the original, and I highkey wanted him to be tamed by Duna and end up as her sub. I had high hopes and he kinda disappointed me in the spinoff, proving he can't be a proper dom, and all he does is out of spite for not being able to outdominate his mother.

Eventually, you need passion to break the mold, of toxic BL in this case, and the passion for m/m just wasn't there for this writer, it seems.

[lovetaled-a]

10 & 19 <3

10. do you have a guilty fav?

answered here !  to add on,  my other guilty fave is twilight.  just the first book.  it’s not great and it’s not top tier literature but i enjoy it  ..  where else am i gonna find my home state repped in these paranormal romances.

19. most disliked popular books?

i don't consider this a hot take remotely and other people have said it better ..  but i'm not a fan of sarah j maas.  i read the acota.r books last year after attempting to in 2019 and dnf'ing after the first book,  and honestly i felt bamboozled.   i was surprisingly enjoying acoma.f or at least the first 1/2 of it on my second attempt, which gave me a renewed chance of being like "hey maybe it's not so bad" because it was going with a lot of familiar tropes i enjoy ( a dash of hateship and a hades/persephone-esque dynamic, basically. ) but by the time i got to the third this woman lost me entirely with her complete lack of plot or meaningful characterization.  i would say as far as vibes go and some of the worldbuilding details,  that i do think acotar has its appealing points and don't mind the idea of fixing the series when it comes to writing characters on here,  but i have no desire to return to the books and can't see myself re-reading them or future installations.  despite the writing and other issues that contribute to my dislike of the series,  my main issue with her as an author and as it remains prevalent in her books is the sense that sjm doesn't treat sensitive issues ( like SA ) well   ..  or endeavor to represent conscientious diversity in her books.  this is more obvious to me from what i've seen of her c.rescent city series,  where basically the same tropes and issues i have with acotar are multiplied.  it really sticks out that sjm also doesn't seem to recognize the problematic way she views gender binary or portrays queer characters as being incredibly stereotypical and not at all central to her main cast.   the fact that the fandom had to clarify that the illyrians aren't white because sarah wasn't interested in doing so is also pretty yikes.  and it does get on my nerves that this series is considered feminist given how often women are objectified or given the male gaze fantasy treatment very gratuitously for a female author to be responsible let alone praised for it.

[marvel-ousmondays]

Captain America: The First Avenger

So this movie will most likely be a bit different in review to all the others. I've seen this film more than any of the other MCU films. Why? Well, firstly, I have made previous runs at watching the entire MCU and those times I did it in timeline order, which meant this one came first. Secondly, I literally adore every actor in it, especially Chris Evans and Hayley Atwell.

I can sincerely say that I appreciate this movie more every single time I watch it.

This time what came to mind most strongly was that I think this movie, despite its minimal female cast, falls under "The Bisexual Gaze".

For those unfamiliar, there was a tumblr post (apologies for the reddit link but it's the closest I've found to the original so far) a while back talking about movies that just as there are movies made from the male gaze (both of the Iron Man movies so far definitely qualify) and movies made from the female gaze (I'd argue The Marvels was made from this and I've heard people use the Birds of Prey movie as a good example), that some movies are made from the Bisexual Gaze. The best example is The Mummy with Brendan Fraiser and Rachel Weisz.

The short explanation given to define the Bisexual Gaze is usually "everyone's hot" but I'd say it's more than that. Yes, everyone is hot, but no one is overly sexualized or, more importantly, objectified. People can be sexual, yes, but there is clear choice and consent involved OR actual (not "coy") outrage when such choice and consent are violated. Everyone is not only attractive physically but is shown to have valuable skills that contribute to their success- be it intelligence or combat skills or emotional intelligence. The Bisexual Gaze is in many ways the Human first gaze. (Pansexuals, if you want to also call it the Pansexual gaze, I'd say have at it.)

So instead of just gushing about how much I love the Captain America movie, I'm going to instead ramble about why I think it fits the Bisexual gaze. And of course, as a bi person, we all know my opinion is God on this one. (Sarcasm, that was sarcasm, don't come for me.)

Chris Evans is hot. Obvious. However, this is particularly interesting in this movie as he's first portrayed as a scrawny guy that many would not define as traditionally hot. (I have no problems with smaller scrawny guys but will say that CGI hurts the look a little here as his head is too big for the frame given.) We then get his transformation and it is the one shirtless scene we're given. He even puts a shirt back on before chasing Erskine's killer. This is my point about minimal sexualization/objectification. We see Captain America in a full coverage uniform the majority of the time and his uniform is less than flattering at first. Despite having a well built and traditionally attractive male lead, the emphasis is NOT on his physique, but on his actions and his emotions. THIS is what we are drawn to- his determination to take down bullies, his love and care for his friends, his dedication to what is right. Hotness extending beyond a simply beautiful body.

Hayley Atwell is hot. I would both LOVE to look like Hayley Atwell and to, well, get with Hayley Atwell. She is gorgeous. But she's gorgeous in that 1940s way of a full coverage blouse, a skirt that does not dare go above the knee, and just the right amount of make-up and hair skill. We see her in the red dress once but even it is a modest cut by today's standards. I'm going to say this for completeness sake- Atwell has a great chest but this film did not center the camera on it- her FACE is the center of the frame if she is alone on camera OR it is the space between her and her speaking partner. I make this point because this filming decision is the number one reason I can argue why a movie with only 1 female lead is indeed an example of the bisexual gaze- Peggy is ALWAYS treated with respect by the cameraman and by extension, the director. She's also in charge of her body. When Hodge makes crass comments towards her, she orders him about and knocks him out, demonstrating that such actions will not be tolerated. She's also integral to all planning and pushing the plot forward. SHE saves Cap from the dude with flame throwers before the major showdown with Red Skull, which is key to cementing their equality in partnership. He's technically the superhero, but Peggy Carter needs no serum.

The closest thing to a "sex" scene is led by a female. If you're thinking "what scene is she talking about", I am referring to the scene with the blond secretary who comes on to Cap while he's waiting to talk to Stark. This scene is especially important given the time period the movie is set in. This woman openly flirts and then grabs Cap and pulls him into a kiss. He is clearly surprised and quickly uncomfortable with that situation (going back to actual rejection of ignoring consent). It is a reversal of gender roles that would have been typical at that time in a variety of ways. Cap is male and the higher rank but he is not remotely using his position to get female attention. In fact, he sits a good distance away from the woman when told he can wait. But this woman see something she wants and she grabs it. (Inappropriately, but she does.) And unlike Black Widow, she's not doing this as a manipulation tactic- she just wants the bloke.

Cap is shown to be an intellectual. This was a new detail for me this round but there is a brief scene in the montage of his training pre-serum where he is unpacking stacks of books. This recognition makes it so much more understandable why he's able to look at a map for 3 seconds and remember where bases were located or quickly strategize how best to use his team as battle conditions change. It also adds to him as a person- of course the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who couldn't really fight took himself to the library to find other ways to better himself.

Cap and Bucky- Just friends? Obviously this becomes more of a thing later. And Cap is clearly in love with Peggy. But I'd argue at least that Bucky has some level of feeling for Steve that goes beyond regular friendship. It may be simply brothers-in-arms or found family, but it's hard to deny that Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan eye contact has some homoerotic vibes to it. While we're on it, Stark appears to have some level of feelings towards Cap as well. This is shown more clearly in the Agent Carter series (spoilers) but I'd say Steve Rogers makes more than a few 1940s men question just where they lie on the Kinsey scale.

Tommy Lee Jones does not care how hot anyone is. This may seem like an odd one, but hear me out. In most films where there is one female lead among a bunch of men, that woman has all the men wrapped around her finger which is why she's allowed to be the lead. And as we've established, Peggy Carter is a capable, compelling, and hot female lead. But Tommy Lee Jones as the colonel does not give a flying fuck. He just doesn't. He tells her off or threatens to multiple times. He sees her as a soldier, not as an attractive woman. And I don't think this is an age thing. We don't see him look at any of them women that pass him (a few are shown bustling around the SSR) nor does he mention a wife or any female interest. This is a man with a singular focus- win the war- and he will use the best people, whoever they are, to do that. He's also not moved by Cap's hotness. After his initial display of skill post serum, Jones orders Cap to a lab because he's the only super soldier he's got. He later begrudgingly agrees to use him after he frees Bucky and the other men, but this is solely about using an excellent tool to an end. His character may not literally be asexual, but his actions are within this context. And THAT does not exist in a male gaze movie.

Speaking of ace rep... Both Red Skull and Dr. Zola never show the slightest sexual interest in anything or anyone. Their focus is on taking control of the world and science. Now I won't claim there isn't anything problematic with villains being cast in asexual lights more than heroes, but I do think it's interesting simply because it shows how little of this movie is sexually or even romantically motivated. We have ONE romantic storyline and even it takes a backseat to the job of winning the war. Our power-hungry villains don't seem to care about women (or men) in a sexual way- they just want control in general. I'm not sure I'm expressing this well but there's something to be said about two men NOT being motivated by a desire for female adoration in any way.

Aesthetics. This is going to 100% be my view and I don't have the words to express it well but it's my blog so it's going in. The grain of the majority of this film that created the 1940s feel heightens glamour but lowers sleekness and sexiness. It makes you want to watch these people but in a wanting to KNOW them way, not in a how they fill out their outfit way. We have one real scene of sleekness and that is after Cap busts out of his "hospital" into Times Square and that is portrayed as overwhelming and overstimulating, not sexual at all. That grain is even kept in his fake hospital wing.

I am noting right now that some of this could be argued to be a Demisexual gaze, and rightly so. Captain America DEFINITELY strikes me as demisexual.

A couple final notes. I really appreciate the diversity in Cap's chosen team. Not just that there are different races and ethnicities represented, but they are represented in unique ways. Our Asian chap is gruff and takes no shit and makes sure people know he's from Fresno (American born and bred), rather than meek and bookish. The black soldier went to Howard University (prestigious and HBCU) and is the linguist of the group, a role reserved for intellectuals in tv and movies. Even Dum Dum, who is a giant, well built, typical white dude is constantly cheery and funny rather than a brute. They don't get a ton of screen time but they make the most of what they do get.

And finally, I had, like most I imagine, assumed Red Skull had died from touching the untethered Tesseract. But this time I noticed that it does indeed look more like he got sucked into a Bifrost type stream. SPOILER- This makes his reappearance in Infinity War much more logical (within the MCU of course).

If you've only watched this one once, I strongly suggest a second viewing. I really feel this one more than any of the others (at least so far) gets better with each watch. Next time I get to do a couple of One-Shots, which is exciting for reducing list purposes.

Note for me:

Directed by: Joe Johnston

[doyouthinkimenjoyingthis]

Bodies, bodies, bodies

I hated my body growing up. I was okay but not until I was 12 that I started bleeding. When I was in Gr4, I was envious of my friends getting their period earlier. When mom and I go shopping, I take pads and pretend I have period even if I don't have. Mommy don't care. I wear them but January 2006, I woke up with blood all over my sheets, and pants. There's some pain in my core. I rushed to my parents' room and mom was nonchalant and told me that I was practicing already so I should be fine.

And everything about my body is changing. I started having breasts around 7. Just small bump so I still had to wear baby bra. I hate it. It's annoying, it's itchy and very uncomfortable. And as a very active kid, if it get hit, it hurts. I never liked it when puberty raged on.

Hair all over that I have to wax, chests growing out that it's noticeable from my uniform. my glutes, waist and hips rounding. What's worst was skinny jeans and tight leggings, body con dresses, baby tees are the trend and elephant pants are out.

I also disliked the attention I was getting most especially from creeps, and weird uncles.

Even from the girls or women, I didn't like it. I wanted to be skinny flat like a boy. Athletic, no fats hanging around.

So there it began my unhealthy relationship wit fitness and food. I kept subscribing to these teen magazines, candy and 17tee. Although they promote healthy habits and talks about eating disorders, I still don't see a model that has the same body type as me. No voluptuous one. Just your usual skinny, and lanky. all of that and the questioning of my sexual and gender identity.

I asked Mrs. Pagaduan when we were on that topic. I said that I wish I ripped off anything that identifies me as feminine. She called it body dysmorphia. You hate the body you are in. She guessed correctly that it might be feeling of transexualism.

Maybe. But I do not exactly want something hanging between my legs. I'm fine with my genitals but I didn't want my framing.

I ate less, worked out more.

Roxy had that skinny body that ive wanted. And just like me, she is developing unhealthy habits.

I've met Hollmae and in which I reflected eventually and it changed my perspective.

Hollmae wanted to be thicc. It's a slang for voluptuous.

We have covered many conversations about it. We can share a lot with our experiences how fucked up society is. Especially towards women and beauty standards. Also, how the Filipino society is shit at that thing.

We can't win. So, I gave up. I continued to living healthy because I don't want to die and I still want to look androgynous. Free of femininity and masculinity.

I've discovered non-binary. I've learned that you don't need to look or dress the part. But you eventually have to because it's a feeling you have to follow. It's an identity.

Today society is progressing where body shaming is a no-no. But it's still difficult to rewire society's standards. Sure, just confidence. But how many people actually, internally believe that.

My mother was among those who is body positive. Easy for her, I think she has a great body. She's quite boxy too. Fairer skin. As a stylist and dressmaker, she does say a lot that the important piece in dressing is believing you are hot.

She says confidence can easily be detected and absorbed. It can easily shut people up. Or stutter them.

I believed her, until you are pitted against other women in terms of male gaze. Which I am a very unwilling participant.

Since I turned 18-20, I felt some changes in my body again. I started to feel old. I started to see myself as old. My aching dysmenorrhea though has lessened. It wasn't like before.

I still work out but I feel like it's not achieving what I have in mind. So I started to starve myself again to lose those muscles then restart.

Comment: There is what we call transgender body dysmorphia. Although you don't desire to be a man, but you also do not desire to be a woman. You are in between.

I think the assault that happened to you when you were 13 might be the perfect explanation for this. You were budding with puberty. The violation of your body in which case the assailant saw you as a woman not a child, would perfectly explains it. As you are very wary and scared of male gazes and even women's for thatatter that you didn't want to be associated with the body that you have. You have complained a lot about that. Of how men started to treat you when you were growing especially from what you call as creepy uncle's who are family members or close to your family. And any men for that matter who is not supposed to see you as an object of desires. Like a teacher. It's your body's response to being protective.

You don't hate your femininity. In fact you embrace it gracefully. It's just not that exact kind. you are protective of your femininity. For you being feminine gives out a signal of vulnerability and you don't want to show it.

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[hinasakuino]

Cramped

Okay first things first there should be way more cliche Naruhina one bed fics and I will die on this hill! secondly, I’ve hit a huge writers block but this was the first piece I could complete and I’m kinda proud of this, Hope you all enjoy :)

Nsfw under cut, including oral (f receiving) fingering, penetration, creampie, 18+ minors dni pls :) 4k> words.

Hinata stared in disbelief at the small space in front of her. She clutched her bag tightly in her fist and looked around the small space once again. This had to be a mistake right? She thought to herself. To say she was shocked was an understatement. She knew he meant well but surely Naruto realized train cars like these were more suitable for couples, considering how small the space was. There was room for a chair and a television in the corner, and a space for their baggage above but the bed took up the majority of the space. It felt too intimate. She looked up at Naruto who was looking away from her gaze.

           “Excuse me, ma’am, is there a problem?” One of the attendants approaches her, and she shakes her head no and shuts her mouth.  She looks up embarrassed when she feels Naruto’s hand pressing into the lower of her back. She was so shocked and in her own world that she didn’t see nor hear the angry grumbles of the other passengers. There wasn’t much space in the halls either. She scuttled into the space, choosing to sit on the chair, it was a recliner big enough for her to sleep, she risked a glance at Naruto settling on the bed. He moved the vent towards himself and turned the knob on high and leaned back on his arms letting the cool air hit his skin. It was hot, she didn’t blame him, but she cursed him for looking so good as he relaxed. Mentally she was screaming and punching the air, this was going to be a long train ride, and she hoped to god there weren’t any delays. It was 8:58 pm on a Sunday, and after a nice weekend in Hokkaido, Hinata and Naruto were now headed to Tokyo to sightsee. Truthfully she was in Hokkaido for work, which was just taking photo’s for the Nature Magazine that she was working with. Because the company hired and paid her for this trip they also gave her a plus one. She was supposed to be here with her sister, but she ditched Hinata in favor for a concert. Hinata wasn’t mad really, Naruto was great, he mostly acted as a bodyguard, warding off the unwanted male attention while she worked. And they got to hang out at all of the cool places in the city. The real problem here was the amount of times Hinata has found herself speechless and practically melting at Naruto’s suggestive and flirty comments. What can she say? She was a sucker for the blonde. Hence why the current rooming situation had left her too stunned to speak.

           “Hey, can you hand me a bottle of water please?” He asks her, he swallows and watches as she digs around in their snack bag for his drink. She looked really adorable in his opinion. She was wearing a white tennis skirt with a lavender halter top, it complimented her so well, he wanted to tell her so many times, but he didn’t want to come across as creepy. He was starting to regret this transportation mode, her shocked state still present as she handed him the water. There was a faint blush painting her cheeks, she ducked her head when their fingers brushed together. He thanked her and opened the cap, taking a sip and then placing the bottle in the cupholder. 

           “There’s an arcade it’s not much but we can go there and then the dining car.” He suggests after a few beats of silence. She doesn’t answer immediately but she nods to acknowledge his statement. 

           “I think I’ll just purchase a shower token and go to bed.” She squeaks. Naruto glances at her and feels bad, she looks nervous. He reaches for the bag next to him and pulls out an envelope and hands her two shower cards. She looks at him wide-eyed and then she realizes he’s handing her something. She smiles sweetly.

           “Aren’t these limited? I feel bad we should give one to another passenger.” She frowns slightly and reads the words on the back, her eyes go wide when she sees the time limited, “Never mind, Five minutes per passengers is kind of weird. I can’t even wash my hair in five minutes.” She grumbles, tucking the cards into the front of her pockets. She freezes and then stares at Naruto.

           “You have a shower card as well don’t you?” She asks him, a hint of worry in her voice. He nods and fishes his cards out of the envelope. She lets out a breath of relief and goes back to looking at her phone. Naruto feels less worried now that they’re talking.

           “I didn’t know it was going to be like this,” He gestures as much as he could, and she stifles a laugh. “Otherwise I would’ve booked a separate room, like the hotels.” He finally admits. She nods her head in understanding, her opaque eyes meet his bright blue ones, and he smiles looking away. Now that that’s out of the way, this was going to be a breeze. He thought to himself.

              That was four hours ago, and boy he couldn’t have been more wrong. He was watching a show on his phone having swapped places with Hinata who was curled up in bed reading. The arcade was only available during the daytime, and the dining car had stopped seating at 9:00pm. Luckily Hinata bought those Bentos at the train station, on top of the snacks, they had vending machines on board for drinks as well as snacks. The problem though wasn’t the food, and entertainment. He was having a hard time concentrating on anything when Hinata was there just existing. If Shikamaru was here he’d laugh and tell him how he was ‘So down bad.” For Hinata.

           He coughs awkwardly and looks away when he realizes she’s staring at him staring at her. She giggles and hides her face in the book. She had showered and washed her hair and while away from Naruto she decided to facetime Ino who encouraged her that she had to make a move and confess her feelings, now or never. Hinata walked the short trip from the showers to her room, with a little pep in her step. Just as she was putting the code in, Naruto slid the door open and jumped back in surprise. She smiled and stepped aside for him to get out so she can get in. The jacket she was wearing covered her sleepwear, a loose fitting tank top, she opted out of the bra per Ino and wore shorts that stopped a little above her knee. His eyes lingered on her as she stripped of the jacket.

           “I’m gonna shower.” He announced in a strained voice. He grabbed his bag from the storage space and slammed the door shut. Hinata felt her face burning, she didn’t realize the true effect she had on him. When he came back, he was still in his awkward state, she felt bad for catching him off guard, but it excited her to catch him staring.

           It was well past one in the morning when they decided to call it a night. Hinata had been dozing off while staring at the passing city. Naruto had turned the tv on watching sports highlights on mute. The room was quiet save for Naruto’s tossing and turning. After his fifth loud sigh, Hinata turned on the light squinting at him with her sleepy eyes.

“Sorry. This recliner isn’t that comfy.” He supplies.

“Do you want to swap? I thought it was big enough for me to sleep in, I wouldn’t mind switching.” She says sleepily. She flings the cover back and scoots to the edge of the bed.

           “Hell no, if my mom heard I made a girl sleep in a recliner and there was a perfectly fine bed in the room she’d kick my ass. I’ll be fine.” He insists. Hinata doesn’t buy it. She slowly crawls back in and feels a little guilty because there’s also more than enough room in the bed for him. She turns the light off and whispers goodnight.

           It’s silent for a good five minutes before Naruto moves and groans again. Hinata flips the light switch on again. He looks at her innocently and holds his hands up.

           “Just get in bed with me.” She groans, offering the covers. Naruto gulps, his eyes traces over her body not so subtly. She’s rid herself of those shorts and was now wearing the tank top and a pair of black cotton panties. He rose slowly and crawled in the bed. Amazed that there was still room for them to not touch and they’d both be comfortable. Hinata turns over and tells him to turn the light off, he does as he’s told, and he lies flat on his back trying to control his breathing. He whispers ‘goodnight’ and tries his best to relax.

             Hinata faces the window, her cheeks are red of course. She had forgotten she wasn’t wearing her shorts anymore. She could feel the heat of his body, and it took everything in her to not turn and latch onto him. She listened to his breathing, she couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. She turned so that she was lying on her stomach. She stretched her leg up and cuddled her pillow closer, tossing her head and hoping it seemed like a natural movement. Naruto had his eyes squeezed shut tight, his hands rested on his chest balled into each other.

           Without thinking, Hinata reached her hand on top of his, she felt him stiffen. She sighed and pulled a hand free; she laced their fingers together and watched as he slowly relaxed until she heard the soft snores and steady breathing from him. She high fived herself mentally and found herself being lulled to sleep from the movement of the train as well as the sounds from the sleeping man next to her.

              The next morning, Hinata wakes up entirely way too warm. She recalls the actions from the night before and freezes when she realizes she is in fact tangled with Naruto. She peeks up at his sleeping form, he’s pulled her close, she’s tucked perfectly to his side, the thought makes her hot all over. She reaches for her phone blindly and grabs it. The time reads four in the morning, she yawns, scotting away from her bed partner and falls asleep with her back turned towards him.

              The morning broadcast is what wakes the both of them.  It’s eight o’clock, well that’s what she hears from the conductor. Her sleepy mind listens as she cuddles closer to the warmth. She’s half listening really, it’s so warm she feels like she could fall asleep again until she hears the conductor’s next sentence.

           “There’s now been an added four hour delay due to inclimate weather, although we are working hard to find alternate routes to get you all to your destination. Thanks again for riding with us and have a great morning.”

             Naruto is still asleep, so she puts on her sleep shorts, she finds her bag and phone and makes her way to the bathroom to get changed for today.

           Naruto wakes up just as he hears the door sliding shut. He looks to his right immedicably and sighs in relief when he finds the spot next to him empty. He grabs his phone and checks the time. He sees a text from his mom and then another from Shikamaru. He ignores them and places his phone back down, he runs a hand through his hair as he sits up, he slept great surprisingly, he was glad things hadn’t gotten too awkward last night, he knows he’d have dark spots and bags under his eyes for sure.

             When Hinata enters the room, she says a quiet good morning, She’s wearing a black shirt and leggings with the jacket from last night. She sits in the recliner and folds her legs, she drinks her water and begins unwrapping a breakfast bento.

           “I wish we would’ve gotten games or something since there’s going to be a delay. Maybe we could find something to do on board, there won’t be any stops for a while.” She comments. Naruto does a double take.

           “How long is the delay?” He asks shocked. He doesn’t know if he can make it this long alone with her.

“An extra four hours unless there’s an alternate route that works for them somehow.” Hinata shrugs. “Want some?” She asks offering him a bite of food. He leans forward and takes the offered food, smiling when she looks away from him.

           “I’ll go get dressed and look around. I’ll let you know what else there is to do when I get back.” He grabs his bag and phone and slips out of the room.

    The four hour delay turned into another two, and then three. Until they reached a full stop, the conductor announced that they were now waiting for a repair team to be sent out, the alternate route ended up taking them further away from Hokkaido and Tokyo.

           Hinata was bored. She has finished her book, and two movies. Naruto had been out to the arcade a couple of times, but it was always too crowded every time he tried to go. Hinata could see that he was bored as well, he declined her offer on reading her book, but they both watched two movies.  They were both eating the last of their snacks as well as sharing the meal that was provided by the train since they were stuck.

           “There’s Soju in the vending machine, we could do karaoke?” Naruto suggest another idea. Hinata had vetoed his previous idea to cure boredom, that idea being knocking on other passenger’s door and running away. Hinata laughed when he suggested it, reminding him the halls were way too narrow for them to run plus she didn’t want to disturb anyone else.

              She chewed her food thoughtfully before shaking her head. Naruto made a noise of frustration and she laughed holding a finger up as she swallowed.

“No to the Karaoke, yes to the Soju.” She supplied and his face lit up. They’d just have to play a different game. There were plenty of apps that served as party games. They finished their food, chatting about what games to play, until they settled on Never Have I ever.

  With the alcohol flowing, Hinata finally felt a wave of calm over herself. She giggled as Naruto put another finger down. So far she was winning, though she felt a tiny bit embarrassed that she hadn’t experienced life as much as she had. He’s pause and question if she was lying or not, and then provide a story on what happened depending on the question.

           “This is no fair. You grew up sheltered. I’ve put a total of thirteen fingers down and you’ve only put one finger down. There’s got to be a different mode or something.” He fights for Hinata’s phone, and she laughs when he successfully grabs it out of hi s hand.

           “Hinata!” He shouts, “These are the boring questions. You realize there’s an 18+ option right?” He scoffs, switching the mode. Hinata looks away, she knew about that option, she just hadn’t consumed enough alcohol to admit the answers to those questions.

             “Okay here’s the good stuff. Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” He smirks and puts a finger down, then he’s staring appalled as she puts a finger down.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m young and still have a lot to discover.” She mumbles she doesn’t know what makes he blush more the alcohol or the questions Naruto is firing at her.

           “Never have I ever stalked an ex on a social site.” He says and laughs when she shamefully lowers a finger.

           “Oh god.” She groans.

“Oooh This one is interesting.” He says reading it and then looking at her. “You ready?” He asks. She bites her lip and doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger there before he reads off the screen again.

“Never have I ever faked an orgasm.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow when she puts a finger down. Her face is red, and he laughs as she takes a shot. She winces as she swallows, the burn of the drink spreads through her chest. She did not want to remember this conversation.

“Damn that’s kind of mean.” He teases laughing when she pulls a face.

“No it’s not. Playing with someone’s labia roughly is mean. I had to fake it or else I’d be missing parts down there.” She feigns hurt and pretends like she’s wiping a tear away and Naruto bursts into laughter.

“That sucks, but you’re so funny. Did the guy ever figure you faked it?” He asks curiously. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head no.

“If anything I only made it worse on myself. He went around telling everyone we hooked up and I had to pretend he was good but really it was just sad.” She replies with a shrug. Naruto laughs again and continues onto the next question.

           “Never have I ever been caught masturbating.” He puts a finger down and widens his eyes when she does the same.

“Shit we were definitely playing the wrong version.” He exclaims, His voice is raspy and the way he’s looking at her really does something to her, she clamps her legs shut, the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Naruto, he glances up the length of her leggings and meets her eyes.

           “Is there a story time behind this?” He asks leaning forward she shakes her head no and this time takes a sip of her water this time.

           “Next one?” He asks. She doesn’t meet his gaze Naruto think she’s going to quit but she nods her eyes and meets his gaze. She smiles shyly at him, biting her bottom lip and she rocks slowly urging him to read the next one.

           “Never have I ever…” He trails off and takes a deep breath, looking up at her, he frowns, debating on ending the game at this particular question.

           “Well? I’m waiting.” Hinata sings and giggles. Naruto feels a blush creep up his neck, the effects of the alcohol has now hit him, and he feels himself blushing as he reads the words, voice hoarse.

           “Never have I ever masturbated to someone in the room.” He doesn’t meet her gaze, but he does watch as she puts her finger down. Any and all thoughts leave his brain. He feels the familiar blood to dick rush and finally meets her eyes. She’s staring at him hungrily, she plays with her lip between her teeth, sucking the flesh in. She smiles and leans forward as she speaks.

           “Aren’t you going to ask me about that one?” She whispers breathlessly. He doesn’t answer, instead he leans forward capturing her lips with his. She’s responsive, practically throws herself into his lap. He catches her and pulls her closer and presses his forehead to hers eyes closed as he attempts to control his erratic breathing.

           “Naruto?” Hinata asks, she turns her head to press a soft kiss to his jaw, he hums in response and tries to gather his thoughts. He so desperately wants to kiss her again.

           “Hinata you have to tell me that this okay.” He mumbles, leaning back so that she can’t distract him with another kiss to his neck. She pouts when he pulls away, but he needs to know that she wants him just as bad as he wants her. She nods her head swiftly and she’s on him instantly, Kissing and licking at his lips. It takes him by surprise, he’s really not used to this Hinata, he half expected her to back out of the game after the first question he sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to be so controlling. She places her hand on his neck squeezing lightly as she kisses him. She moans into the kiss, rocking her hips over his erection. He grabs her hips grinding upwards into her center and that has her mewling, tossing her head back to moan breathlessly as his hot tongue sweeps the length of her neck. He snakes a hand in her hair and tugs lightly eliciting another lewd noise from her.

           “Naruto..” She moans his name, and it sends a shiver down his spine, he wants to hear her like this forever, she’s driving him crazy. She rids herself of her shirt, and Naruto helps her with her bra, basically ripping it off the poor girl, his hands are on her breast before she has a chance to toss the bra away. She moans lowly as she rocks into him. She gasps loudly when he pinches her pebbled nipple in one hand, he clasps onto the other with his mouth. Hinata squeals when he rolls his tongue over her nipple, she feels a new gush of wetness from her pussy, she was in heaven, she was sure of it. He sucks more of her tits, moaning in delight as she presses closer to him, her breathing has quickened and he can see a sheen of sweat on her face, her bangs were sticking to her forehead, she looked absolutely wrecked. He pulls away and presses kisses along her chest watching her through hooded lids. She stands abruptly, pulling him forward to stand as well, when he’s free of his clothes, Hinata strips out of her bottoms, and crawls up the bed, giggling when she feels Naruto’s hand roaming her backside.

           He’s on her as soon as she’s comfortable on the pillows, he settles in between her legs, breath hot on her exposed cunt it sends shivers through her. He smirks as he lowers his head, her gaze never leaves his, until he licks slowly up her slit making her squirm. She throws her head back unable to watch as he ate her out.

           Naruto goes to work, propping her left leg on his shoulder to that he could rest comfortably and get closer. He licks her hole, before suckling her clit, her hips jump in response, but he’s not phased, just pins her down and continues working her closer to an orgasm. He slips a finger in and groans at how wet she is, he pulls away and adds another finger, her walls twitching at the intrusion. He pulls back to watch as her pussy contracted onto his moving digits.

           “You’re not faking this for me are you Hinata?” He teases, she slaps his arm weakly, and turns her head holding back a moan as she spoke.

           “No, you’re making me feel so-fuckkk, so fucking good.” She moans loudly, turning her head so that she’s muffled by the pillow.

           “Nu-uh, I need to hear you to know it’s real.” He curls his fingers pumping faster into her wet walls relentlessly, she was close, and Naruto needed to hear how she sounded when she was cumming. Her hands come down on him, trying to push him away, it was too much but she was so close, and he was going to get her there.            “I’m about to-” She starts and pants, a whine rolling through her, Naruto feels the spasming in her pussy, he pumps his fingers into her faster and goes back to suckling her clit.            “Naruto, please, I’m going- oh shit. Fuck.” She grunts and throws her head back letting a harsh cry wrack through her as she floats the high of her orgasm. Naruto slowly pulls his fingers out, he kisses her sensitive pussy, and then both of her thighs until he’s kissing up her neck, holding her close to him.

  Hinata gulps in a breath of air, her eyes flutter open when she feels Naruto kissing across her collarbone. She smiles looking completely fucked out.

           “It’s your turn.” She mumbles, kissing him lazily, her hands wrap around his length loosely he groans at her teasing, panting just as she slips the tip of his dick in.

           “Fuck Hinata.” He hisses, she’s so tight and warm, he’s not ashamed if he busts quick. She rocks her hips into him, getting a slow rhythm started before he takes over, pounding into her with slow precise strokes. She lets him fuck into her, while she gropes her tits, moaning at how full she felt. He moans at the sight,

“You’re so fucking sexy, look at you.” He rasps, kissing her once more. She looks so hot, he feels the warmth spread in the pit of his stomach, can feel the tightening in his balls, his thrusts become quicker and sloppier, he knows he should pull out, and he’s about to but Hinata wraps her legs around his back, pushing him in deeper, her breath ghosting the shell of his ear as she came for the second time, he could feel the mess she was making as she came on his cock, he could feel her tight walls milked his dick, it was all he needed before he was off on his own orgasm, thrusting into her slowly.

            “You’re so fucking sexy.” Naruto whispers again, kissing her exposed shoulder. Hinata hums in response, she can feel the cool air, or the a/c hit her and then Naruto adjusting the flat sheet over the both of them.

           “I’m sleepy.” She mumbles into his chest. He turns the light off.

“So sleep.” He says with a yawn. She mimics him chuckling and then they’re both quiet breathing in sync before dozing off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n:If you’ve read this far ily ily ily! I honestly was supposed to work on Want me back but I couldn’t get this idea + Naruhina out of my mind. :)

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[katsukikitten]

Just some general warnings and disclaimers, this is an aged up Victorian era AU that I did a sort of collab with @bakugotrashpanda, so please check out BTP’s work as well. We had so much fun discussing this idea and breathing life into it, we would love to hear how these stories made you feel. Please also note that the woman in the banner is NOT the set skin tone for reader so please feel free to have that match your own skin tone! Also this is one of my bigger works coming in at a little over 14,000 words! (maybe a part two idk) but enjoy~

The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food. 

Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not. 

Countless eyes rake over your long dress, always choosing a color so deep in hue it is often mistaken for black. They often murmur curiosities as they ponder over what exactly you are mourning.

Little do they know it is your freedom. 

Tonight you are in blood red with matching gloves to your elbows, diamonds, garnets and rubies drip from your throat and ears. A sight to be seen in your bold dark colors that are often frowned upon during the bright season of spring and summer. 

A bold male approaches and yet the closer he gets to your stunning form the more meek he becomes. He nods his head and reaches for your hand, pressing his lips to your gloved knuckles. 

"May I have your first dance?" He peers up at you as you stare down with an icy glare. Removing your hand with deadly precision from a man you know of but could not care less about. 

"You may not." You say simply and all he can do is stew in his rejection, affirming your wishes with a small nod. Another male in a smooth storm grey suit approaches. His large hand grasping onto your fingers, bringing your knuckles to his lips. 

"You look exquisite my dear. Would you honor me with your first dance?" 

"I shall not." Another subtle yet swift removal of your hand from his, wishing you had worn two pairs of gloves for this sniveling little asshole. Not everyone knew his secret love for abusing women but you did. He would never get the pleasure of dancing with you and in the two years since your introduction into the market you've made sure he had no one to wed. Using the power and respect people had towards your Father's name, towards you for guidance, ultimately steering them away from this pathetic sack of bones. 

And with your power you were dubbed the icy hot debutante of Alryne, fierce as a flame so hot, it felt cold. 

You wear a neutral face, but you do not smile, making yourself a touch unapproachable. This already weeds out the weak men who want nothing more than to suck the blood and money from your father's estate. 

But it wasn't as if the neutral face was easy to achieve, oftentimes you had to fight a scowl. For two years you've hated every second of every ball, party, or soiree since the Queen smiled in your favor during your first debut. She often praised, as did your mother, your cold precision, quick wit, and intelligent political decisions that were so well disguised that men just thought you modest. 

When in actuality you were playing the game, and since you were being forced to play by your father then by Hell's flames you would win it all. 

The first half of the ball drags in stupor of tedious repetition as you idly chat with women of various titles to gather any information you could without revealing your own hand. 

Besides all of the pestering gnats, everyone knows that your first dance is always reserved for important males, to never approach until after the two of your six stamps have already been taken. Even then there was a high chance of rejection, as there were no men of value to be seen. 

At least not yet. For as long as you could remember the higher ranked males arrived a touch late, "fashionably late" they claim. Abhorrently annoying is what you call it.  

Fashionably late men such as Lord Bakugou, son to the Duke of Summer or his distant cousin Lord Kirishima, son to the Duke of Spring. 

Bakugou arrives first, his grin wolfish as he scans the crowd, women flock to his arrogance in troves, although he ignores them. He has one woman in his sights yet it is not the woman he stands before. You give a small courtesy as you speak. 

"My Lord." Offering your hand gently. 

"My Starlight." He presses his lips to your silky glove for a long moment unable to keep his cocky smirk off of his face, "May I take your first dance?" 

Fighting to keep the delighted smile off of your face you offer a flutter of your lashes. He kisses your knuckles once more as if you needed convincing but the two of you know what you are doing. 

"You may." And with that his wolfish grin returns as he sweeps you onto the dance floor, showcasing your abilities as he shows off his own. Not to mention the dance floor is a great place to talk in private. His hand lingers just above your lower back, firm in his grip as his other hand holds yours almost delicately. 

"We match tonight, my Starlight. A brilliant touch." He guides you along the floor with ease, his eyes gesturing towards his vest and tie. 

"I only took an educated guess as to what you would wear, my Lord." 

"Do not sell yourself short. I know how sharp that mind is." Another wolfish grin, his eyes never leaving yours while feeling the court gaze upon the two of you. You give him a knowing smile before asking. 

"Any luck with her majesty, the prized diamond?" You ask, eyes blazing with curiosity. He smirks again, only his eyes revealing his true scoff as he twirls you in your jeweled slippers. 

"I did as you instructed and went with my father to that dreaded stay at the countryside Manor, how did you know her Majesty and Princess Amila would be close by." 

"I took an educated guess." A blatant lie that has him grinning from ear to ear. He leans closer, pulling the attention of the ladies especially as his ember eyes burn into you. 

"Far more than an educated guess." He spins you again and you fight the tightness in your gut. Enjoying the dance as he parades you around the room as if to say look at what I have that you could never. 

Even if the two of you agreed you would never be his. The two of you having struck up an arrangement of sorts on your first dance. He was forced by his Grace to ask at least one woman to dance and he had only chosen you with hopes that you would say no. 

But you loved the honest, irritated look that lingered in his eyes and on his lips. So of course you said yes as misery loves company. It was then he told you not to fall for him as he had his eyes set on the Crown, you laughed loudly and said "As if I would ever fall for an arrogant pig such as yourself, my Lord." His smile was wild as he enjoyed your insult, it was then you told him you would help him with the Crown, only if he made you his first and last dance of the evening at every event. 

Back then he had hesitantly agreed, now he can see how far your scheming mind went. Saw the numerous callers and suitors who loitered in your parlor, the extravagant flowers that they sent in excess. The rings they bestowed to you as they dropped to one knee, bold enough to peacock the large diamonds in front of other callers. 

And all after Bakugou had done as you asked for only three parties. He got a front row seat to rejection every single time, which in turn started the talk, the gossip, that this city loved.  You were desired because of how you painted yourself and in turn made Lord Bakugou desired as well. Talked about, all because he was the only male who had your approval. 

He loved your scheming mind so much he could kiss you, but alas you did not wear a crown. Although you often had a braid of jewels atop your head, sadly you were not kin to royalty, only a Baron's daughter after all. 

Bakugou wonders what you could have done as a queen. He would think you an empress.

"Is that all the detail I get? Just a confirmation that I was correct about their holiday?" He spins the two of you in step, hand guiding you although you did not need it. Having memorized every step to every dance there was since before your debut. 

"She saw me." 

"And?!" You can hardly keep up the façade of calm collection as you wait. 

"And she flushed. Her cheeks were as red as any rose, Starlight, she was a rare red diamond sparkling by the lake. She must already be in love with me."  You snort, unable to stop the smile on your lips. 

"I've never heard you so poetic before. Normally you leave that to Lord Kirishima. How many times did you run into her? Not more than three I hope."

"Oi, I am a well versed student and I listened to my teacher. I made her wait for the fourth and denied it. Left her in wonder and hope as you said." He rolls his eyes, fingers sliding up to your dress line touching your bare skin with his beneath your guise of hair. The sensation of his warm fingers against your cool skin does not go unnoticed. 

"Are you practicing for your dance with the 'rare red diamond' now?" You taunt, earning that chest tightening wolf grin. 

"I'm only doing as my teacher has instructed." 

"Well the Princess will fall for you the moment you kiss her hand." 

"One can only hope. Her official debut is less than a month away. I want it to be perfect." His eyes shimmer with plotting mischief as does yours. 

"So it shall." 

The music flows and ebbs to the end of the song as Bakugou deposits you right back where he got you. Bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he holds your gaze once more. 

"My Starlight." When he straightens you curtsy.

"My Grace." With that he leaves, heading towards the table of sweets and beverages, you were sure he would be ordering bourbon. Your mother clears her throat from her chair, the out of season silk blanket over her thick skirts pulls at your heart. She sits on that plush chair as if it were her throne. 

"You dance with Lord Bakugou often." An observation. 

"Indeed." A dry retort. 

"I am sure Lord Kirishima will be your next dance, correct?" 

"One can only hope." 

"So you have an eye for a Duke's son?" 

"I am happy to dance with those deserving, Mother." Your mother keeps her eyes on the turning bodies on the hardwood floor, Kirishima makes his way through the crowd once he spies you. Your mother turns to face you as she says 

"Is the Duke of Winter's son deserving?" 

"Hmm, he has three sons, mother." You keep your eyes away from her until she finally looks back into the crowd. 

"Ah yes but only one is ever at these events." You follow your mother's gaze and they fall upon the Lord, he is the third son, he opted to chase after the world of medicine rather than women. Earning his doctorate much faster than his peers, he only just returned to conduct his practice in Alryne. 

Pity he returned at all. 

He catches your eye and you make a point to turn your cheek, unable to stomach his heterochromatic, condensing gaze. Your turned cheek was as close to fuck you as you could ever say to the high and mighty Lord. Still the words burned on your tongue as if you swallowed acid. 

"It is not as if he ever dances mother. Therefore, how can I give him my attention? As you taught me a woman must wait to be asked as it is every woman's dream to be wed to a handsome, skilled dancer." Out of the corner of your eye you can feel her displeased look before she straightens. 

"At least do not string along Lord Kirishima, that boy is not as zealous as his cousin." She says just as the large man slips through the last throng of the crowd. 

"My shining gem." He smiles with sharp teeth before he places a chaste kiss atop your hand. 

"My Lord." A curtsy before he asks. 

"May I have this dance?" His smile is plastered on his face as he knows your answer. 

"You may." Kirishima sweeps you across the floor in a different manner than Bakugou. Lord Kirishima is more flirtatious in the way that he guides you. Always choosing more of the upbeat dances as opposed to his cousin's serious selection. You do not hesitate to go in for the kill. 

"So when do you plan to ask Lady Mina for her hand?" He blushes at your words. Biting the inside of his lip subtly, a habit you could only notice from being up close. 

"Have you even attempted to court her? What fear plagues you, Lord?" Confusion dots your features as a sad smile paints his soft lips. 

"I am not sure she would- That we would be an ideal fit." Kirishima admits, turning you gracefully, pulling you close to his body. Scandalous some would say had the two of you been an inch closer. 

"Well my Lord, I believe, had you actually talked to her while the two of you danced, as I suggested, then you would come to find out that she is lovely. Pure hearted as she is honest in this game seeking love. Most women here are making attempts to move up in position, my Lord. As a Duke's first son the title of Grace is yours to master. She is a delight and air is not the only thing between her ears as some of these…"You survey the room as everyone watches with greedy eyes, "Vultures." 

He laughs never used to your own unwavering honesty. He knows you are not participating by your own free will, he knows because you are helping himself and his cousin when he was sure you could have had anyone in this room.

If the Majesty's nephew, Prince of the Yarrow were to attend even one ball this season, Kirishima was sure you would have his attention too.  

He twirls your body away from his and brings you back to the safety of his sturdy form. Your eyes are molten determination as you all but hiss 

"Ask her to dance next. You know the host prefers the set to be serious, flirtatious, and then a slow dance. It will be the perfect time to talk." 

Lord Kirishima sighs, squeezing your hand as he guides the two of you closer to your mother so he can leave you in her company. 

"You could turn any dull man into something more. Whoever wins your hand is getting a precious gem indeed." He kisses your hand as the music begins to change into something slower as you had predicted. 

"One shall only hope." You curtsy as he takes his flushed neck towards a certain Countess. Your mother gives you a knowing look and you offer her a cat smirk. She shakes her head but even she cannot hide her own satisfied smile.

A blonde male approaches, as he does every third ball after he ensures your first two dances have been taken. The flamboyant male has not once asked for a dance first, trying to be just as calculating as you. Although he is much more obvious. 

You suppose it was not half bad for a male. 

"My lady." He bends lower than he should for his station in life, but he is obviously copying the cousins before him having seen how it makes you smile. 

Lavender eyes shine up at you as the Viscount brings his lips to your gloved hand. You debate if you should say yes tonight. Having left him in the dark as your desire to dance with him solely depended on your mood. 

"May I show the room the grace in which steals the breath from my lungs?" Your eyes smirk as your lips form a small smile. It seems flattery would earn him a dance tonight. 

"You may." 

The Viscount smiles with delight as he gently takes you to the dance floor, holding you to him as he takes you across the hardwood. The candle lights play along your features as Monoma's face grows soft. Had he been anyone else his gaze might have brought a flush about you. The two of you shared a few dances before, he has sat in your parlor in the time he has attempted to court you and the flowers he sends are always the most expensive. 

He has even brought you chocolate from a month's long trip. Even you had to admit that was thoughtful, not too many people knew of your Achilles heel. A small part of you thought that if no one else would do, at least this man would bring you luxurious chocolates. 

"No trips this season?" You smile politely, he blinks as he seems to come to. 

"Only if I can take you with me." He smiles, a hint. You pretend yourself modest and look away to fight the roll of your eyes. 

Maybe chocolate would not be enough to sate you. 

His eyes flicker to your mother as a question forms on his lips. 

"Neither your brothers nor the Baron attended tonight?" 

"Ah unfortunately no. My mother is my chaperone tonight." You say tilting your head, he turns so you can face her, stepping slowly as the song lulls on. 

"I am elated she is well enough to attend." He smiles, you cannot tell if it reaches his eyes so instead you offer 

"As am I." 

The rest of the night is filled with rejection tumbling from your rouged lips as champagne flutes seem to find their way into your hand. 

"Not too much of that dear or you will not be able to enjoy the company of your suitors." 

"Truly a pity." You say taking another from a passing waiter. Eyes trained on Lord Iida and the lovely dancer in his hands, a blue dress sweeping across the floor and a white carnation nestled in her hair. 

A beautiful touch and it pays homage to their first dance before they were even wed. 

The love that embraced the couple could turn anyone in the room green with envy. 

You down your flute as you reach for another. 

Night brightens into morning much too soon as curtains are ripped open in your room. 

"My lady callers will be here soon." Rose, your handmaiden says softly, "I have a bath waiting for you."

You groan in response having not had enough sleep after pouring over your drafts for your book until your candle snuffed itself out. 

"Turn them all away Rose." You growl turning away from the irritating light, could it not have rained this morning to delay the suitors as it always did in this forsaken town?

"She will do no such thing." Your mother says as she walks into your room with her cane, her hand gripping onto the golden beak of a bird. 

"Mother, why not marry off Hendrix or  Hideki?" 

"Hendrix must apprentice under your Father for a period of time while Hideki can do as he pleases for now. He is only 20, besides he makes an excellent chaperone does he not? He isn't too nosy nor does he neglect his duties to intimidate pushy men." She pushes some of your hair back as she sighs, "Although I doubt you need help in that manor." 

"I deserve a strong bloodline, so I will do what I must to ensure that. Even if my face has to be scary at times." You and your mother share a laugh before she adds. 

"Your face is far from scary my dear." She touches your cheek softly rising from the bed to allow you to get ready, "The suitors shall arrive within the hour. Make haste." 

"Yes mother." You half groan rising to wash. Enjoying the warm water that Rose has so kindly added aromatic flora and citrus to. Once you enter your bedroom Rose has a dress picked out for you, waiting for your final approval. You nod allowing Rose to assist you with your corset and strings of your dress before you pick out jewelry to match your silver finery. You choose a silver bracelet with little diamonds as stars that Lord Bakugou had given you for your birthday this past year, smiling down at the small thing before assessing yourself in the mirror. 

"What do you think Rose, should I add some rouge to my lips?" She gives you a smile of delight. 

"And your cheeks too, my Lady." 

Breakfast is served in the parlor as it consists mostly of fruits and finger pastries that will be served to the other guests. Hideki comes down in a fine and deep sapphire suit. 

“Sister.” He gives a smirk to which you nod.

“Brother.”

“And what trouble will you get into today?” He stage whispers, causing you to cut him a glare as your father comes around to loom in the arch way of the parlor. 

“Remember, you need to pick a husband this season or I will pick for you. It is disgraceful to have gone through two seasons at your age.”

“I am only twenty four, dearest Father..”

“That just proves my point. You have a month before I extend an offer to the Duke's-.” He takes in a sharp breath to chide you further only for his Grace to swoop in and save the day.

“Baron.” Bakugou says, his eyes challenging as your father bows his head. As Bakugou makes his way towards the delicate foods. Father cuts you a knowing glare. As if to say I know your games child.

You offer a sweet smile as you make your way towards your small writing desk, fighting off the urge to groan outwardly. You just wanted to work on your manuscript or read for that matter. Instead you would have to entertain men who cared not what you thought only what your pretty mouth would not say. They would swarm you, demanding attention as you waved them off gently, half you had never even spoken too.  Bakugou gives you a wicked smile from beside you as if he could read your thoughts. At least he always sat closest to you, saving you in a way although you never instructed him to sit close. 

He just always had. 

"Do you not want to play the piano today, my shining Gem?" Kirishima asks from the door. 

"Ah I am not sure I am in the mood for it, my Lord." 

"Easier to avoid people as the bench is only meant for one." Bakugou gives a devilish smirk, Kirishima almost pouts, his sullen expression does not go unnoticed by his cousin. 

"It has been an eon since you last played for us." Bakugou adds. 

"Am I to be your song bird today?" You cut a glare at him. 

"Yes, Starlight I believe you are." It seems it had no effect. Sighing you stand, collecting your skirts as your wrist twinkles in the morning sun. Garnet eyes bore into the delicate wristlet. Your fingers pluck a key here or there until you begin to play. Losing yourself in the music as you sing ballads from ages ago, melding them into songs you've written until it all sounds like a cohesive piece. Each old song is lost in transition to the new one, time ticks on but you do not notice the string of men who come and go from your parlor. Resting your voice for the time being as your fingers fly across the keys to something you composed while thinking of your father and his ever pushing hand towards a Duke's son you had great distaste for. The notes are sharp, almost jarring at times yet still the piece is stunning.  In that time you had not noticed the lavender eyed man who sat closest to you, right in front of the piano in the corner of the couch. The finger cramping song ends on a somber, harsh note. 

"What a beautifully charged song." Monoma says breathlessly. 

“Well I was thinking of my enemies when I composed it.” You smile at the sunshine blonde with a devilish grin, he feels unsettled by it but says nothing nonetheless. His lavender eyes glance over to the wolves at the back of your den. Hideki gives him a small nod, Kirishima a soft smile but Bakugou gives him a glare that feels like Monoma is gripping needles. 

He swallows thickly, adjusting himself on the plushed silk of the couch before your small piano. 

“Ah before I forget.” He smiles pulling out a box setting it atop the polished wood. Gifts were a natural part of courtship or so your mother said. You offer a smile, grabbing for the box with poised eagerness and yet not overly so. 

Not that you were excited but you had to pretend to be. You unbox the obvious jewelry and fight back the distaste as you stare down at a gaudy, overly large necklace. The colors are a soft green and yellow, colors you avoid for many reasons. 

“Thank you.” You think to add a chord or two to your unnamed song in honor of Monoma. Bakugou laughs loudly from the back of the room, feeling how much you hate the gift, you look over your shoulder to send him a glare that he can only smile at. 

After hours of trepid and boring conversation Monoma takes his leave. 

“Another evening my Lady.” He smiles softly and you return it half heartedly.

“Another evening.” Lavender looks over your shoulder before Monoma clears his throat

“Your Grace and your Grace.” He bows his head, the ash blonde and redhead nod in unison. 

"Shall we go and drink my high friends?" Hideki asks, hoping for an excuse to leave the stuff house. He was more than over bearing witness to  gag worthy stares and compliments some of these men gave you. 

"An excellent idea!" Kirishima exclaims, standing before stopping by you. He takes your gloveless hand with a sharp, flirtatious smile. 

"My shining gem." He presses his lips to your skin and you return his smile. 

"My Lord." He nods and takes his leave, Hideki at his heels as Bakugou approaches. He does an exaggerated sigh unable to hide his smirk. 

"Little songbird how will I ever get through the night without my Starlight?" He holds your hand, lowering his upper half as did his cousin before him. 

"I suppose you will fumble in the dark."

"If only I had the pleasure." He purrs as he presses his lips to your bare skin. Suddenly his fingers are too warm as he holds your gaze, he looks as if he could devour you. 

Lest he forget he is staring down a panther himself. 

"Have fun fumbling in the dark by yourself, my Lord." You remove your hand and look out of the corner of your eye at him. He backs towards the door of the room. 

"I should hope to have thoughts of Starlight." He calls before he disappears into the hall. You tap a key as your mind wanders before you rise, famished and ready for dinner before you would take a long night of writing. 

A month passes by faster than you'd like and you find yourself outside of the ballroom in the grand hall of the castle. Soft music filters in through the doors as your Father insisted the family be a bit late this evening. 

For he wanted to make a statement and one at your expense. 

"If Duke Enji's son asks you for a dance you will oblige." Your father hisses, his large hand curling around your bicep. You bare your teeth, stepping out of his grip as you collect yourself. 

"He has three." Acid drips from your tongue as sure as morning dew. 

"The doctor. Not the failure first born and not the inadequate second. The third. Shoto. Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"

"I think you will not weaponize her. So do as I please and decline." You hold his burning glare as you add, "If the Duke's family is as bad off as you make it seem." 

"Oh I think you shall accept his dance. Or so help me God I will burn every book your ill, grief stricken mother ever shoved into your scrubby little hands." He leans closer, a nasty smile forming as his lips, "And if that is not enough I will throw your manuscript into the fire for fodder." 

Your eyes blaze with a rage that ignites beneath your skin, burning your blood as your eyes make unspoken promises. When I am through with you 

You part your lips to retort but your eye catches Hendrix and Hideki, their eyes filled with pity before your mother slowly approaches. 

Father chose his battleground well, knowing you would be unable to react as you pleased and with Bakugou already at the party there was no other male to save you. You bite your tongue until you taste blood. 

"Is everything alright?" Mother asks tentatively, fussing with your hair, "Darling you must mind your face, my love." 

You swat her away, breathing through your nose as if you were a dragon. Heat still dancing in your veins as you allow your feet to move on their own. 

"Announce me. Only me. And do not announce another soul until I am beyond the last step." You hiss to the harbinger whose eyes grow wide before he nods. His voice booms over the murmurers of the crowd and once eyes begin to land on you they are silenced. 

Your eyes are set hard and as cold as stone as you look over the crowd, slowly descending the steps in your deep ombre gown. Starless night black from the bodice before it lightens gradually into a charcoal grey, glittering crystals sewn into the material shine in the candle light like miniature stars. Your gloves followed the same gradual pattern except it seemed as if each finger was dipped in glittering silver and atop your wrist was your favorite piece, diamonds winking in the low light set into silver pointed stars. Woven in your hair were diamonds and pale citrine alike forming a crown in its own nature. 

Had Her Royal Highness not have already been announced and seated it would be easy to mistake you for the Crown. Considering how you commanded attention and held yourself, eyes looking at no one but seeing all. 

The envy, the awe, the lust. 

A pivotal moment was coming, the last three stairs is where a woman would normally hold out their hand, expecting their favorite suitor to take action but you did not hold out your hand. Keeping one firmly on the dark wood of the banister while the other was eloquently posed beside you. Even if you had held out your hand the men in the room were too stunned to step up to help you. This allowed a soft, devilish smile to form on your painted lips as they performed exactly as you had planned. Finally your gem encrusted slipper touched the hardwood, parting the crowd before the spell was broken by the announcement of the rest of your family. The room let out a collective breath and instantly erupted in hot gossip. All of it falling on deaf ears as you grabbed onto a flute of trusted champaign. 

From across the room you felt burning garnet eyes on you, you met them briefly before sipping at your bubbly beverage. He begins to cross the sea of bodies when a large man steps into your view. 

His eyes are cold as they bore into you, a shining sapphire paired with a smokey quartz. Distaste curdles your stomach as you fight to keep your face neutral and your eyes trained on him. Fans block painted lips as they spread more gossip about the man before you. 

"Is she ensnaring another Duke's son?" 

"She is becoming too haughty for a Baron's daughter." 

"Do you think she insulted the Crown with her entrance?" 

"Would you allow me your first dance?" His deep voice cuts through the vultures' cries pulling you back to him. He has your glittering left hand in his. Brining the dazzling glove to his lips in greeting, there is no joy in his gemstone gaze. 

The hot rage bears its teeth again as it surges through your blood like liquid fire, burning so hot it felt cold as it licked at your bones. Your lip barely twitches, No poised on your tongue as your father's grating voice echoes in your head. 

"Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?" 

And so your mouth finally forms the words. 

"You may."  He looks surprised, surrounding faces mirror his own before he fully takes your hand. Guiding you to the floor during one of your favorite songs that you always sat out as no dance partner ever dared the secret, advanced steps. You were steeling yourself for disappointment 

Shoto's grip on your body is tight but not uncomfortable as he sweeps you across the dance floor, twirling you, guiding you as he holds your gaze. His stare is heavy and intense in a different manner from Bakugou's with a hint of something that could be mistaken as flirtatious. But you saw it for what it was, discontent. 

As the song pushed on the discontent seemed to change into something new entirely as he showcased your skill while hiding his own. Allowing you to twirl away from him in several rotations that would make even the most skillful dancer fearful of misstep and yet you breathed in the music as if it were precious air. Neither of you notice how the other dancers give you room, allowing for more twirls and advanced steps as the two of you are becoming lost to the music. His fingers brush your bare skin as he pulls you back to him for  guided, sharp steps as the music heightens. His skin brushes yours again, electricity thrums beneath the pads of his fingers before he sends you into another dizzying rotation but to you it was nothing. Briefly you wonder if this were a test until you see the soft smile on his lips when you return to his arms safely for the final set of guided steps before the music were to abruptly end, just as the dance was intended. His eyes were glued to yours the entirety of the dance, softening with each step. 

Both of you stop in beat with the last soaring note panting as the movement seems to catch up with the two of you. Neither of you realize how quiet the room is until clapping comes from the royal dais high above the room, the rest of the crowd follows suit. Shock melts into a smile as your eyes return to his. A sharp pain rings out in his chest. 

"Not bad for a Baron's daughter." Disgust settles on your face faster than you can stop it spewing from your lips. 

"Not bad for a recluse of a Duke's son." You tilt your head up, fighting the snarl of your lip as his face becomes so mind numbingly neutral while his eyes darken. Shoto drops you off by your mother only for Bakugou to approach, swiftly bringing you to the floor for a slow song. 

"Starlight. How did I not know you could dance like that?" He is astonished by your skill, "I've never seen you so happy. Maybe the Duke of Winter's third son will do you justice yet." 

You scoff but all Bakugou can do is offer you a deadly smile. 

"Enough about my dead end dancing." Your eyes glance towards the dias, the Princess cannot look away from the two of you, "This should be enough for the Princess to want to dance soon." 

It is Bakugou's turn to scoff. 

"Are you sure she is even going to have the opportunity to dance? No one is even allowed on the stairs to their enclave." 

"Ah but this is her debut. The Queen will allow it, besides the princess cannot keep her gaze off of a certain ash blonde." 

"How could she ever?" Your laugh rings out, it warms even the coldest hearts as Bakugou pulls you closer to him. Heat radiates from his body in a calming manner, your fingers squeeze his. 

"Arrogant as ever." You smile, thinking how you will miss dancing with him or even having him at the back of your parlor to laugh with over sad attempts at your hand, "Remember once you take her one dance for the night, she must be your first and last dance of the night in the future, if not your only." 

Bakugou cannot hide the dejection in his eyes even as he feigns cockiness. 

"I am a well versed student, remember?" His fingers brush over your skin, his middle finger tracing a small circle. 

"The best student I could ask for." The music comes to a close on more than just the song as Bakugou returns you to your family. He presses a long kiss to your glittering glove. 

"Until we meet again, my Starlight." He holds your stare. 

"Until then my Grace." With that the night sets into motion as you turn down dances left and right. Eyeing a ruby haired man who twirls a certain countess in his hands. As the music ends the Queen stands earning a hushed crowd. 

"My daughter, the Royal Princess shall take the dance floor, she will only allow one dance on the night of her debut." It is not a shock that she is allowed so little but there is no worry on Bakugou's face. The princess straightens at the top of the stairs, trying to exude the same commanding energy you did. She falls short in power but outshines you in other wordly innocence and grace. As if she were a lily that only bloomed for the moon, her beauty unmatched in her pale pink dress. Carefully she guides the layers of it down the steps as diamonds and pearls drip from her hair and throat. She tries to keep her eyes from sticking to a broad shouldered man and yet at the same time from wandering, as she stares at the back wall of the room. 

As she nears the third step Bakugou struts towards his prize with the ease of a relaxed swagger, glaring at men as he passes before he reaches the bottom of the steps. Extending his hand to the Princess just as she hits the third step from the bottom. She cannot keep the smile off of her face as her gloved hand claps onto his bare fingers. He bows deeply, raising her hand above him to look from beneath long lashes before he brings his lips to the silk. 

"Your Royal Highness, my shining diamond. You are truly the envy of the night." A flush gives the Princess' lack of experience away, "May I have this dance?" 

"You may." It is a breathy answer before Bakugou sweeps her off of her feet. Charming her with each calculated step and  arrogant quip. The princess smiles wide and almost pouts once the music begins to ebb. Bakugou returns her to the stairs, supporting her hand as long as he can before she rises out of reach.

But to Bakugou she never was and never will be unattainable. 

Before the night is over an envelope is pressed into your hands with the Crown's seal pressed into the wax. You quirk your brow, tucking it away to be read at home. 

"I am so elated you came." Her voice is like honey as the butler opens the doors to a parlor so large it could hold your entire home. She guides you towards a small table and fights with the layers of her silk dress before sitting.

"How could I reject a personal invitation from her majesty?" You sit across from her, eyes going over the deck of cards and a set of tea. 

"Well, believe it or not, I do not have the pleasure of friends, so please call me Amila." 

"Everyone would desire to be a friend of the Crown, your Royal Highness." You counter, quickly she points her fan towards you, tapping your side of the small ornate card table. 

"Ah but you do not have the desire to befriend the Crown, so I have high hopes that you will befriend me for me." She smiles, a certain gleam to her eye before she says, "Now let's talk about handsome Bakugou and how well you played me." 

Your face gives nothing away as you look up from the cards you've been dealt. Your mind rushes down all possible avenues but you know to avoid the one of playing dumb. It is obvious that the Princess has a keen eye. 

"Surely you'll reveal to me what gave us away." 

"After that dance Bakugou had with me, had I been anyone else he would have returned to you. He either has his only dance with you or his last dance with you. I figured him or Lord Kirishima to be heavily interested in you. You are a sparkling gem amongst the coal down there so I know you have many callers and suitors. But the last to leave are always Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima. That is what has thrown me off the scent."  You laugh at her honesty of the knowledge she has obviously collected about you or was tactful enough to guess. 

"This is what we do, your Royal Highness." Your gloved hand gestures to the table, "I take them for all that they are worth." An honest giggle leaves Amilia's lips.

"For that I am grateful and some would dare say I am in your debt." 

"A brazen statement." Your eyes return to your cards, "I would not state it as a debt although I am happy to receive your gratitude. Especially since it is in the form of cards and cake." 

A laugh falls from her lips as a smile settles on yours. The round of cards continues. You win the first few rounds and then Amelia has a lucky hand. Winning the last white tea macaron. 

"Did you allow me to best you?" 

"Lady Luck just happened to take favor of the Crown." 

"Or maybe she took pity. " She smiles, fingers fidgeting nervously, "Would you care to admire the art? Mother allows me to have this as my own personal parlor so I decorate it as I wish." 

"I would love to admire some of these lovely paintings. Starting with the one behind you." You stand, heading to the large piece you had been eyeing for some time during the games. You could tell by the stroke of the brush that the artist was newer to painting but they were quite talented, the strokes almost went unnoticed even by your sharp eye. 

Most importantly were the emotions the work of art evoked from the viewer. 

Silently the two of you drank in the large oil painting. The canvas colored in deep pinks, reds and oranges as the sun laid to rest to allow its lover the full scope of the sky. Shadows stretched far and towards the viewer and if one paid close attention they would notice the black cat in the corner with two large moon eyes. 

You especially liked this painting, the ease it made you feel even earning a small smile. 

"I can already tell this one is by far my favorite, your Royal Highness you have a fine eye for art." She blushes at your compliment, twisting some of her low hanging hair. You keep your amusement of her flustering to yourself, eyes trained on the swirling colors of the rippling blue mirror of the sky, looking for a signature. 

Odd, there isn't a looping set of initials in the corner like most have. As if reading it on your face she speaks. 

"I- I am the artist…" It is shy and soft, unlike the Princess and you realize the weight of the truth. That she had not heard one genuine compliment of anything that she had ever done. 

All she would ever receive is flattery and only for the hopes of kindness from the Crown. Finally time swallows up her sudden meekness as she blurts out.  

"Are you sure Lord Bakugou is not in love with you? I know you fancy Lord Todoroki, Doctor Shoto." 

"I do not fancy the Doctor, he simply is the most logical option I have currently, he would make a fine partner and husband. The seasons have not brought anyone new and my days of spring are limited." You idly move to the next painting as you speak, "As far as Lord Bakugou, he and I are too much alike. Too ambitious for our own good, we'd either explode or implode I'm afraid. Like some tragic star in the vast galaxy." 

"You would not marry for love?"  

"It is best to marry for a strong partnership, love is a possible byproduct, however it proves to be a rarity. Love comes with time, your Royal  Highness, a luxury us women do not have." You glance her way, "Not even a Princess is immune to this unfortunate condition from which all women suffer." 

"But he looks at you with intense burning, with...love." 

A quiet moment passes between the two of you before you offer your honesty. 

"He would learn to look at you that way, more than he would see the Crown. Especially with your mind and artistic skill. He would be a fool not to fall for you." Her eyes water at your response, "Come, let me teach you how to best Bakugou at his favorite card game, Amelia."  

When you return home later that afternoon Bakugou is fidgeting outside of the manor causing your brow to furrow. Then it dawns on you that one of your brother's has a big mouth and told his Grace where you would be. 

"My Lord." 

"Starlight." He offers you a strong arm and you take it as he guides you up the stairs and into the parlor just off the foyer. 

"Are you here to gossip?" You trust Bakugou enough to go without a chaperone, besides the doors to the parlor are wide open. You sink into your writing chair as he takes his normal seat by your side. The plush cushions do not ease his twitching fingers before you give him a playful shove. 

"Out with it then!" You giggle, the sound pulls a devilish smirk from the blonde seemingly easing whatever troubled his mind. He leans back into the cushions. 

"So, how much did her Highness speak of me? Endless compliments no doubt." His teeth flash white as you roll your eyes. 

"And here I thought you had a pressing matter." You move to turn away from him to focus on writing but he grabs onto your knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze as his face gives him away. The tips of his ears burn before he clears his throat. 

"I have to show you something and I need your honest opinion." Silence is his answer as you patiently wait for him to produce the mystery item. Slowly he reaches into his pocket, a black velvet box is in his hands. A smile blooms on your lips as you anticipate the ring he must have picked for the princess. He opens the box and your heart free falls into your stomach. 

It is a pear shaped black diamond flanked by silvery diamonds that wink in the afternoon sun. At the top of the circle of diamonds was a deep red garnet that looked like a drop of blood. The ring felt powerful if it could make one feel such a thing. You fist your skirts as you collect yourself.  He watches your face contort as you look over the ring, his jaw ticking with worry as you assess what is essentially both his ego and pride. 

But the ring is breathtaking, perfect really. 

"Katsuki, it is a gorgeous ring…" Your voice trails as you admire it, "But I believe the princess to have less...moody tastes. She does not normally wear dark colors." 

A small silence stretches between the two of you, almost as if he expects something else, quickly he snaps the box shut. 

"This is why I ask you things, my stunning Starlight." He pulls out a red velvet box popping it open. This ring is beautiful as well but does not have your heart as much as the first. 

It is a stunning and giant marquise cut white diamond. Blinding in the light with a halo of pale pink diamonds. It is vibrant, radiant like the princess. Katsuki always did pick out the perfect jewelry to match a woman's tastes. Bakugou watches your face carefully, the sad smile that pulls your lips upward causes a deep ache in his chest. His jaw ticks again but you answer before he can even think to lash out. 

"Your Grace, this will surely win her heart." He looks you in your eyes, a flash of an emotion you cannot quite catch before his arrogance returns. 

"Indeed it shall. We can discuss the best date to ask another time." He closes the box and tucks them both away, he grabs your left hand, fingers ghosting over the bracelet he gave you, "You seem tired, you should get some rest." 

"I believe that to be a grand idea." You say softly as he kisses each knuckle. He squeezes your fingers. 

"My life would be dark without you my Starlight." You fight to keep the bitterness out of your voice as you reply. 

"Soon you will have a shining diamond to light up your life." 

"Only thanks to you." With that he takes his leave. 

With burning eyes you add to your manuscript, foolishly writing a love story as your other novels have been completed. The candle dwindles as the hours pass before your hunched shoulders ache from the poor posture and lack of movement. You stretch, yawning as you do before you decide to head to bed. 

Expecting an empty foyer you are surprised to see your father looming in the hall, your mother standing solemn by his side. Her fingers clutch at her pearls as your eyes catch sight of bags at their feet. It is not unusual for them to leave in the middle of the night in order to keep the severity of your mother's health from the limelight. 

"Is there troubling news?" Anxiety twitches in your fingers as you clasp them together. Although your father's next words make your fingers want to wrap around his thick neck. 

"We have been invited for an extended stay at Duke Enji's manner in the countryside in hopes the two of you will court one another." 

"Father that is scandalous in itself." 

"Not if an engagement comes of it. Which one will, whether you fall for him or not, young lady. The matter has been decided among the men." His words sting like a slap in the face. Where most would cry you lash out. 

"Oh, I get it. Per usual the men can think with nothing more than what hangs between their legs, fearful that theirs is not long enough. So the men do all that they can to control everything but their own fragility." You step towards your father and he takes a step back, "Or is it more gruesome than that? One blackmailing the other? I just cannot imagine the ambitious Duke wanting a Baron's daughter for his son. Unless his family is so far in decline he must place the weight on his new heir and bride." 

His eyes widen unnaturally before he is frothing at the mouth. 

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN. YOU WILL LEARN YOUR DAMN PLACE. " He slaps you, causing a hush to fall over your family. Your eyes are wide with animalistic rage as you lunge only for Hendrix and Hideki to hold you back. Both strong men begin dragging you away.

"Forgive her, Father." Hendrix starts before Hideki finishes, "You know how the heat gives women a touch of hysteria."

"We will help her pack her bags." 

All the while your mother looks at her husband in horror.  The sight falls beneath the stairs before you are shoved onto your bed. 

"Sister!" Hendrix roars while the youngest brother looks flustered, worried, "What were you thinking? You know how closed minded father is." 

Hideki cuts the eldest a look before he adds. 

"We are just worried. Normally you keep your wrath at bay." 

"As much as it may come as a surprise. I am only human." You rise from the bed asking Rose to prepare you a trunk. To pack anything, that you did not care as you sat at your desk furiously writing. Your bothers watch you with curious eyes as the tension seems to subside before they take their leave.

Minutes tick by before you're standing in the foyer. Father and mother were already sitting in the carriage that waited outside under the cover of misty rain. Hendrix and Hideki stand awkwardly by the round table in the middle of the foyer. Pretending to fuss over lavish flowers Lord Bakugou had sent that morning. A beautiful arrangement of roses and hydrangeas, two of your favorites, the Lord knew of them through observation alone. You wait patiently until one brother makes eye contact with you. Hideki breaks first, guilt shining in his eyes as it threatens to spill over. It is obvious he does not want you to leave the house, his normally crooked smile falters. You cup his cheek, smiling up at your sentimental younger brother, he acts as if you will never come back. 

Maybe there is some truth in that. 

"Cry not, for I have an iron will while father's is but made of glass." You swipe the tear, before pressing two letters into his chest, "Besides I have an important task for you." 

"Is it your scheming?" Hendrix chides and you laugh in answer before continuing. 

"These are for Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima, it is imperative you deliver these letters." The paper contained important instructions for not only a successful proposal but a marriage as well. 

You'd be damned if all three of you would turn out miserable. 

"I'll put them in the post." 

"No hand deliver them." Your eyes turn icy causing both brothers to go rigid, "And should I find out the seal has been broken before their arrival I shall take the family jewels from between your legs."

"Is that any way for a lady to talk, my dearest sister?" A jest in an attempt to lighten your souring mood. 

"Yes, it is."

"They will be in their hands by this evening. We are wagering on a fight tonight. Enjoy your stay." Hideki leans in close with a tease but his voice almost cracks, "Make sure the rock is huge." 

"Indeed." Hendrix agrees with an almost sad look in his eye, leaving you to wonder what it is that they know and you do not. 

Well, you do know why they have such long faces, you just do not care to admit. You wave to them and their eyes catch on the silvery reflection of diamonds on your wrist. 

The manner is stifling to say the least. The large, grand thing is as your trunk is set in your room that overlooks a small garden and the long sweeping hill that leads home. You pace your room before a knock comes at your door. 

Hoping to ignore it, having not the desire to speak to a soul, your feet quiet. You listen for them to retreat but instead a louder knock sounds out. Before his grating voice floats from beneath the door and through the keyhole. 

"I know you are in there, my lady." 

Ugh, that stupid doctor stood on the other side of the door. Still you ignore him. 

"It is rude to ignore your host."  It ignites something in your stomach before you rip the door open. Eyes ablaze as Todoroki stands perfectly still in his onyx black suit sans jacket. White sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong forearms. 

"Surely, a good host would not force his guests to his estate?" 

"A good host would not mention how unwanted their guest is." His smile is sickeningly polite, eyes as cold as yours. It is hard to keep your composure as you breathe in deeply through your nose, eyes widening before you slam the door in his face. 

Only once you hear his footfalls retreat and the moon shines long on your floor boards do you finally make your way towards the door. A woman on a mission as you yank the door open, uncaring that you were not in much but a thick white nightgown that could be mistaken for a dress.  You rush for the stairs and through the door just off their back parlor, having memorized it from the long winded tour both your father and his Grace Enji insisted the small party take of the grounds. 

A cool summer breeze whips your hair this way and that as it dries the sweat that sits at your nape. Normally people would describe this feeling as miserable, that even the breeze had a bit of heat to it, but you. 

You lived for it. Twirling in the moonlight you allow yourself a moment for vulnerability you often cannot afford before you go deeper on the grounds, closer to the woods that lie just beyond the manor. 

Once you are at the edge you give the grand home a glare with your back towards the woods. The creatures of the night sing their symphonies well into the late hour. A twig snaps behind you cause you to turn about face, your eyes meet with lavender framed beneath light lashes. 

Ice runs through your blood as you faintly recall him speaking of these trees by his own countryside manor. He often went to these grounds to hunt. 

So why was he standing on the Todoroki grounds? 

"So it is true?" Monoma chokes out an ugly sound. It is between defeat and a snarl. He takes a step closer, "Whisked away in the night. Did Todoroki steal your maiden head from me?" 

Your eyes widen at his scandalous accusation and it is then you see how truly disheveled he is. Hair plastered to his forehead, his canary suit stained green from foliage. The fabric even darkening beneath his armpits and at his collar, it sends a sort of frantic look to his eye. He steps forward and for once in your life you yield, stepping back. 

"That is a damning accusation." You fight to keep the cracking rage from your voice, the small fear that blooms in your belly like poison nightshade. Swallowing thickly he steps forward. 

"He, he can't take what's mine. I- I was going to propose today. But that damn Bakugou is always lingering around like toxic gas. Poisoning your mind with his….ambitions." It is then you see red. 

How dare anyone thing you were so fucking fragile and innocent some young blonde could corrupt you. Your palm strikes his cheek with enough force that he is facing away from you. You strike again and then as you rear up your fist he pulls you to him. Pressing his whisky soaked lips to yours as he swallows you whole. Mouth extended over your lips, sloppily engulfing you as he makes sounds that make you want to retch. His tongue slides past your lips and you bite.

Not enough that he loses it, although you wish you could afford to do such a thing. But you still lived in a society where a man's word was far more valuable than that of a "whore." Shaking you pull back, so much rage that you do not see the flash of light until it is too late. 

"Fucking bitch!" He slashes at your nightgown, cutting the fabric away as you think you've doged, he goes to slash again, "God damn whore!" 

His voice echoes through the trees and that scares you more than the knife in his hand, his sloppy demnor creates an opening as you kick him so hard between his legs he falls to the ground, puking up his belly full of liquor onto the moss floor. 

Suddenly the summer night is too hot, the frogs and crickets too loud as an owl calls deep within the wood. Thunder roars overhead before the clouds become too heavy. Panic slicks your skin before the pounding rain as you turn to run, hopping you kicked hard enough to rupture something in this cowardly man. 

If you lived in any other world, you would have tried your best to seize that knife and plunge it into his chest. 

But you didn't, so you ran. Vision blurring as the pain finally catches up to you. Hand instinctively flying to your stomach only to come up wet. 

"It's the rain, it's just the rain." You gasp out rushing into the house and shutting the glass paned door as quickly and quietly as you can. Fumbling for a lock before you give up all together, arms outstretched in the dim room looking for a candle or a mirror. Shaking fingers find a match that you light using the wallpaper, uncaring of the risks as you frantically look for a stick of wax. Lighting the wick once you've found one and taking it to the mirror above a small runner table. You set the wax down, close to the glass, thunder shakes the windows and the house as you pull the fabric from your torso. It reveals an angry red slash that weeps crimson, a choked gasp leaves your lips as lightning flashes illuminating the whole room. Still you do not see the reflection of the man in the mirror. 

"What happened?" It sounds animalistic as it comes from the corner. Your whirl to face him, pulling the cloth back down to cover your decency. A lie falls from your lips as easy as breath. 

"Nothing." Your rasp, feigning embarrassment, "My-my courses have come early. Your Grace this is not something you should witness." 

"Do you take me for a fool?" He steps closer, eyes burning in the candle light, "I may not be an expert of female anatomy but I know the basics." 

You swallow thickly, trying to jest. 

"Then my Lord you are far more experienced than myself. I am bashful to be in the presence of a skilled womanizer. This truly is nothing." He closes the distance, wrapping his deadly hand around your small wrist. Pulling it away from your body.

"That laceration does not look like 'nothing'." He mocks, "I will not ask again." 

Silence engulfs you as the storm rages on, it competes with the roaring in your head. Your knees slowly buckle as Shoto keeps you up right. His winter's night by the hearth scent floods your senses. 

"I feel a bit faint." Your voice sounds so small, so far away that it stirs something in Todoroki. In the year that he has watched you, he has not once seen your falter or become meek. He makes way to scoop you into your arms and is a mixed of relieved and agitated as you swat him away. 

"I-I can walk." You straighten your back, smoothing the reddening fabric over your bodess and for once you're thankful the blasted nightgown is so thick. He gently guides you to your room. 

Once there he prepares a basin as you try to sit on the plush bed. 

"Aht!" He whispers harshly, "Change." 

You relax into the foot of the bed anyway, unable to hold yourself up right any longer. He sucks his teeth, bringing the supplies to the bedside table before searching through your trunk. 

"A Lady's things should not just be rummaged through." 

"Hmm is that so?" He finds another night gown before he hovers over you, face pinched as he asks, "Can you undress yourself, truthfully?"

Moments pass before you admit that you are not sure that you can with a shake of your head. Slowly he eases you out of the damp fabric, dabbing at your wet skin with a towel. He avoids looking at your breasts and as much as he would love to stare a weeping wound commands his attention. He places the gown just enough to hide your breasts before he lies you down on your back. 

"From beginning to end, tell me what happened." When you do not answer he forces your chin to face him, "Tell me, now." 

And your name slips off his lips like poisoned honey, a truth serum you swallow whole. You retell the quick exchange, including the damning kiss as you watch rage blister across Shoto's handsome features as he silently begins to work. 

"We must  prosecute him."

"We must not!" You exclaim as he dabs antiseptic at your wound. He gives your an exasperated

"What would have happened if he had nicked an internal organ?"

"I suppose I would be free of this wretched world." A nonchalant shrug as best as you can manage.a glare cuts your way as his roar turns soft.   

"Why would you say such a thing? Do you think no one would mourn the loss of you? Do you think he would not weep at your service?" Shoto touches the bracelet of dancing stars and you pull your wrist back. Tears burning your eyes, you do not allow them to fall. 

"He is not up for discussion!" It's a loud whisper before you grip Shoto's jaw with enough force it grinds, "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Lord. You can take your leave as I do not need a soul."

He melts as he watches the pain flutter in your eyes, a long sigh escapes him as he melts into your touch. His fingers feathering over your forearm.

"Pride is a deadly sin. Allow me to help. I will be quick." Slowly you drop your arm away from him. He digs around in his bag before you change your mind. He disinfects the sutures before he sends the needle through tender flesh, your tears dry as you allow your mind to retreat. Shoto takes quick notice. 

"You do that a lot…" He comments softly, pulling the suture through your skin, you glance his way, "You seem to disassociate." 

"Well, feelings hurt so it is better to not feel at all." You grind your teeth as he pulls the widest part of your wound together. 

"Is that why you push him away so often?" He holds your gaze before returning to his work.

"Did I not tell you that he is not up for discussion. No matter, I do not have feelings for Lord Bakugou." He scoffs at your lie. 

"Ah so then it was not you who suggested the Princess in the form of flattery? Lord Bakugou is a smart man but you played into his blind spot, stroking his ego and enticing his ambition." Your gritted teeth say it all. 

"And how pray tell would you even guess at such grandor things when you are not in attendance at even half of these events?"

"I am privy to this knowledge because I too keep everyone and everything at arm's length. It is much easier to see the moves when one is far enough away from the board." He dabs at your abdomen, "And you my Lady are by far the best player." 

"Flattery does not go far with me." You sigh softly,  fingers idly playing with the wrinkles in the sheets,  "Father wants me to set a final round."

"Mine wishes for me to begin and end in the same turn." He slowly places your nightgown down, "Which is why we should make an effort to at least get to know one another. With your wound I suggest staying an extra week or two to ensure it closes properly. I can convince our Wardens that the extension is for an attempt to win your hand."

He leans back in his chair, sweat on his brow from fusing with your wound, from worry as it furrows. Your chest tightens and suddenly the urge to be in control sinks its teeth into your skin. Quickly you unclasp the birthday present Lord Katsuki had given you, setting it on the nightstand beside Shoto with dramatic flare. His eyes widen as he reads between the lines, the silent vow of "I will make an effort...for now". The promise seems to pierce his heart. 

"Fine. I enjoy picnics, I suggest we do that on the grounds so that we may be chaperoned from afar and yet have privacy. My expectation is unbashful honesty from both parties." You turn over to give him your back as you pull the fine blankets to your shoulders, "Furthermore you must come up with some sort  of endearment for me. Anyone who has ever tried to seriously court me has. I have come quite fond of them as titles bore me. Something lovely so give it thought."

Shoto is stunned into silence for a moment before he lets out a dark laugh. 

"I see, this is still your game"

"Precisely." You say, he stands, lingering in the doorway before shutting the heavy oak. 

It was difficult to sleep to say the least. Still you were grateful to have risen before Rose. Dressing yourself before she could see your wound. More grateful still when Rose set down some tea claiming Lord Shoto sent it.  

You downed the scalding liquid in three swallows, surprising Rose, before she passes you a folded note. 

Meet me in the back garden for lunch. 

-Shoto 

A muscle ticks in your jaw as pain blooms across your stomach as you stare at his lovely script. 

Shoto hates to admit that the first thing he looks for is that bracelet on your wrist, when he does not see it he lets out his held breath. Drinking in your deep, sapphire dress. It sparkles as if covered in stardust, his heart clenches. He looks towards your stomach, worry etched on his features. 

"How are your stitches? No corset right?" He asks, gently guiding you to the plush pillows on the ground. Maybe he should have asked the butler to bring out chairs instead. 

"I feel naked without it." You admit, he sees a bit of nervousness you have normally schooled away. 

"You look lovely." His eyes are gentle, lips formed in a soft, genuine smile. Your heart tried to skip a beat. It's the heat you tell yourself. 

"Flattery will not get you far remember?"

"I'm only being honest, my sweet petunia." You give him a puzzled look, was this going to be his nickname for you? You were not a delicate thing. 

"A flower?" You give him a look but his smile does not falter. 

"Ah would you rather I say my dew kissed rose? My begonia?"

You both laugh at his last suggestion. 

"My sunflower." Your heart stutters, you glance away for just a moment and he takes notice. 

"Ah so you approve," He collects a strand of your hair between his fingertips, "Sunflower?" 

Heat rushes your cheeks as you fight the smile on your lips. You lose as he kisses your hair. Maybe you could be a delicate thing. 

"Did you know sunflowers can remediate soil? It is why they are planted after tobacco is harvested in hopes to use the fields once more." He is quiet as he waits for your admission. 

"It is my favorite flower, it is in season now. Alas not one suitor has sent them. Roses and hydrangeas are my favorites too but nothing quite says summer like a sunflower." You sigh, looking over the manicured bushes and flowers in the garden. 

"Is that your favorite season?" He is perceptive, you take  a moment to breathe in the sweltering breeze with closed eyes. Humming your answer. 

"Indeed." You kick off your shoes and place your feet into the grass, leaning back to allow your face in the sun. Not many women would be so open to sitting on only a blanket and with no umbrella or covering. And yet here you were soaking up the sun like a lazy cat. Heat rushes Shoto's cheeks as he realizes just how perfect his name for you is. 

"Have you ever had intercourse with a woman?" You ask, eyes still closed as Shoto flushes further. His cheeks are as red as part of his hair. 

"Sunflower." He gasps but you giggle. 

"Unbashful honesty, remember?" He lets small silence stretch between the two of you before he answers. 

"I have. My brother convinced me it was a good idea." His eyes look sad, it makes your gut clench as you look away for a moment. Question burning on your tongue. 

"What if I were to say my maiden head was taken?" 

"Who am I to judge after I have slept with another. Sadly I know some are stolen." He answers without hesitation. 

"This is true. Mine is still intact, I am grateful Monoma had only stolen a kiss." You sigh.

"You'd never kissed anyone?" His tone is curious although his eyes are dark with anger for you. 

"I tried to be a proper lady. More so because I do not like to touch people or feel their skin. Touching them makes them real, you know? And when someone is real they can have power over your heart." Shoto mulls over your words and realizes how much he relates. He places his hands near your fingers but does not touch them. You notice the gesture and scoff without the pretension you skillfully lace his fingers with his. Delighted to see the burning blush on his cheeks. 

Maybe life with Shoto would not be half bad, if only he gave you more moments like this. 

Moments like this last over the two weeks that drag into three. Days are spent  beneath the summer sun with exchanged and often heated, intellectual debates. Both of you feeling mentally stimulated for the first time as each of you allowed a few walls to come down, pulling each other closer than arm's length. While a few hours of the night are spent beneath the moon. His gem stone eyes raking over your abdomen in worry but nothing more than his checking on your wound as he was ever the gentlemen.

On Monday of the second week Shoto has come fond of his summer sunflower, so much so he brings a large black box to the next picnic, tucked away in his pocket is a matching, much smaller box. He presents to you the medium sized box as you giggle in delight. 

"My Lord, my shining Shoto. What could this be?" Your cheeks hurt from the width of your smile as he opens the box for you to see. Your face flutters into shock before joy returns as you hold out your wrist. Shoto takes the delicate golden bracelet that has several round onyx surrounded by citrine in the shape of petals. Sunflowers dance on your wrist as you twist it this way and that, unable to school your features into your normal distaste for guadry gifts from suitors. But this gift was far from gaudy, only one man before Shoto had earned this reaction. You bring your parasol to hide your face and his from the prying eyes of the manor as you gently press your lips to Shoto's cheeks. 

"I love it." You admit. It gives him enough courage to commit to ask you on Friday, the bigger question. 

Having you walk for "therapy" through the grounds, pointing over your shoulder to point out phantom ducks on the lake as he nervously sinks to one knee. 

"Shoto, love I do not see-" You turn to face him and see his loving eyes, wavering smile and shaking fingers holding open the box that reveals a giant oval ruby surrounded by diamonds.  He clears his throat. 

"My sunflower," You fling your arms around him, making him fall off balance as you land on top of him. Peppering his face with uncharacteristic kisses as excitement, for once, rushes through your veins like a second blood. He laughs lifting you by your ribs, careful of your slowly closing wound as he spins you before setting you on your feet. He fumbles for the momentarily forgotten ring before he slips it onto your ring finger. He presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling warmly. It reaches his eyes in such a way your gut clenches. 

And for a moment you forgot you were ever anyone's starlight. 

For one returning to the manor seems almost dreadful and not because of waiting suitors but because you would be without your own. He insisted the two of you be seperate as your mother and his, prepared to arrange the wedding, as you demanded the ceremony to be small. Despite your desire for to keep the engagement quiet for just a week or so, your mother and father took it upon themselves to spread word back home before you could even arrive. 

You exit the carriage as the house looks quiet, earning a soft smile. Your ring catches your eye and you remind yourself that this truly was the best possible outcome. 

The foyer is covered in flowers, from congratulations to a giant trove of sunflowers on the center table. 

You smile at the flowers Shoto must have sent this morning, they sit in a glass globe of a vase, their usually tall stems cut short. Their flower heads are large and vibrant even in the ambient candle light. You finger a petal as you reminisce over the past few weeks, your stomach hardly protesting as you stand on tip toe to look at them all. Relishing the moment of silence before you realize you are most likely home alone. Your brothers lost in some fighting match while your parents took their leave from the Todoroki manor to busy themselves with venues. You figured a change of clothes would do you nicely before you settled down over your much neglected work. 

A black nightgown and almost sheer robe clung to your frame as you stepped down the grand staircase, smiling once more at the flowers before slipping into your parlor. Lighting only one other candle by the door before taking yours to your desk. With deft hands you pull out one of your manuscripts and tap along the top with a manicured nail. A sigh leaves your lips, you finger with your bracelet, with the ring on your finger before a fresh page is found on your desk. You write furiously. 

About something as trivial as love. 

Still the quil seems to move on its own as if enchanted as words dot the parchment in ink. Suddenly your work is disturbed by someone entering your parlor. You assume it is a brother who has come home, glancing up you see locks of ash blonde causing you to grip at your robe to close it tighter. The moment you realize it is just Bakugou your grip on the fabric loosens.

"I wasn't expecting you at this hour." Fear of needing a chaperone barely crosses your mind since it was Lord Bakugou who was your company. You relax into your seat as he crosses the room to sit in his normal seat, on the corner of the couch, closest to you. His posture is poor as he leans his forearms on thick thighs, garnet eyes cast downward, he grips at his own hands as his knuckles turn white. You wonder if he did not heed your letter. 

"How did the proposal go with Princess Amelia?" Your voice sounds out over the silence of the room, still he remains quiet. It is unnerving how solemn and silent the normally wolfish man is. Something pulls at the strings of your heart. His eyes seem misty. He keeps them to the ground or so you think, as they rake over the ring on your finger, on the bracelet on your wrist. The onyx and citrine dance in the low light of your burning candle. Bakugou feels a sheen of sweat coat his hands, bile rising in his throat that he has to swallow down. 

You think the worst, you think the Princess rejected him but that didn't make sense either. She was so obviously in love with the ambitious man, you heard while away that she even turned down a dance with a forgein prince. 

"What's wrong, Katsuki?" The way your voice forms around his name, the way your eyes look with unbiased worry causes Katsuki's limbs to act on their own. In one swift motion he cups your face in his broad hands, bringing his lips to yours so softly. Once the plush of your lips touch his he cannot stop as his hunger for you comes to the forefront. He kisses you with a fervor unmatched as his lips move yours, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Tilting your head so he may deepen the kiss, tongue sliding over yours as the world falls from beneath your feet.  

But as quickly as it fell it returns, pushing him away while turning to face away from him. You keep your head held high as he pants on the couch beside you. He grabs your thigh, desperate for touch, for anything but rejection. 

"Starlight." His voice is deep, rough from what might be disuse as it cracks on the second syllable. A question runs rampid in your mind.  How long had he felt like this? 

"Please, my starlight." He squeezes your smooth thigh and you look towards him. Watch his force contort with pain, as if you held his beating heart in his hands and crushed it.  

Really it is what he had done to you, as you look down at him with hot tears. 

He is the first and only soul to see you cry in decades. It seemingly tears him about but he brought this among himself. 

The kiss is answer enough as to why he is here. 

It should not be this tempting to throw it all away. 

"Get. Out." You seethe, fat droplets catching on your sheer robe, falling down your cheeks as if you were an actress going through a tragic scene. He does not move, does not breathe as he hopes your temper will cool. 

Instead it heats. 

"Get out, Get OUT. GET OUT GET OUT!!" More composure lost with each increase of volume before you completely lose it, "FUCKING GET OUT!" 

He hardly moves and the ruckus calls alarm for your brothers who were home, who let Bakugou in at such a late hour. They come from the office across the hall in hurried steps, expecting to see an assailant, hoping that Bakugou could fight them off. 

They silently determine what they see is far worse. Bakugou gripping at your thighs with this pleading look while your face is now firmly buried in your hands. A sob racks through your body setting your brothers ablaze. 

Hendrix speaks first. 

"What did you do?!" His eyes are flaming as he sets them on Bakugou, who ignores the two men. Hideki begins to close the distance and his eldest brother follows suit. 

"What have you done to make my lovely sister cry?" Hideki's voice is full of hurt, disappointment and when they receive no answer they decide it is time to remove your true assailant. 

Both grab at Bakugou, pulling him away from the couch as you wet your palms with years worth of tears. 

Everything in your life, no matter how hard you tried to conduct it, was truly wrong wasn't it? 

The fresh swirling ink on the pages answered you enough, the love story you did not know you needed with a protagonist with soft ash blonde hair. 

"Please. Do not make me BEG!" He yells as your brothers' sad attempt at forcing him from the room topples furniture and the like. 

Still you weep your self pity away. 

His next words are deafening  as your heart finally cleaves apart, the pieces falling to the floor before shattering like glass at your feet. He brandishes the black velvet box with the black diamond ring tucked inside as you finally look up to him. 

"IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, STARLIGHT!"

[coffeequeenmartha]

Chess Beside the Hearth

Diluc x Male Reader

"Checkmate."

That one line, one word, practically pierced the current thick tension within Dawn Winery's walls. It was only a second later that a disbelieving scoff, laced with utter confusion, escaped (Y/N)'s mouth. "No way!"

Narrowed eyes gazed downwards, scanning over the black-and-white chessboard set up in front of them. It was with great annoyance that (Y/N) came to the realisation that his king piece - once standing tall and proud - now laid toppled over beside a knight piece of the opposite colour; also surrounding it were two bishops and a singular rook.

Diluc let out what was close to a chuckle at his reaction. "Care for another round?"

It was instinctual when he removed his and Diluc's intertwined hands from one another, instead opting to fold his arms and mumble a touch petulantly, "That's the third time I've lost today, all in a row! How are you so skilled at this?"

"I've indulged in chess for as long as I can remember," the redhead replied, reaching over and gently grasping his partner's hand once more. "There's more to it than just practice."

There was a glare that had begun to form across (Y/N)'s face; firm yet somewhat half-hearted in manner. After a few tense moments or so, it was as if all the anger, annoyance, fight dissipated out of his system. Rigid muscles relaxed into the couch they were seated on, taking comfort in the smooth leather and soft cushions of it.

"I really need to work on my game, huh?"

"I'd be happy to teach you." The answer was said with no hesitation.

"That sounds great," (Y/N) sighed, a wide smile beginning to dance across his features. Two arms, one of which was sporting a glowing Vision, reached forward, resting themselves upon Diluc's shoulders and loosely connecting at the back of his neck. "But let's save it for another time. That way we have an excuse to go on an entirely different date and spend more time together."

A chuckle rose within the wine tycoon's chest. In a fluidly-smooth movement, his hands were soon laced around his partner's hips, and then, a moment later, his head was leaning into the warmth of their right shoulder (though not as hot as his own, he still found comfort in it all the same).

There was a peaceful silence now; only consisting of their soft, in-sync breaths and the crackle of a nearby hearth's flames. They licked and bit at the air - sending tufts of smoke into the atmosphere and tainting the room with a faint, smoky scent. Though, (Y/N) would argue that it paled in comparison to the rich, fruitful aroma currently emanating from his fiancé.

He couldn't help the whisper of, "Your hair is so soft..." that rolled off of his tongue.

A lock of soft, crimson hair had been wound around his index finger now, being twisted and tugged in a surprisingly delicate manner in order quell his urge for affection. The strands of it felt like silk; softer than a pillow, a feather, softer than anything he could have ever imagined.

"I've been meaning to ask," (Y/N) piped up, a curious tilt edging its way into his tone. "What products do you use on your hair?"

"Adelinde is the one who has been providing all sanitary items within the Manor, I believe. If memory serves me correct, the batches of hair nourishment that she import contain wolfhook and lamp grass essence." Diluc inched the slightest bit closer to his companion, a new thought making itself known in his mind, being, "I'd be happy to provide you with a supply of it, you only need ask."

(Y/N) whispered a quick word of thanks, and then he was back to curling red tresses around his fingers - soothingly and keeping care that his motions didn't force tension upon the strands. It was to be expected that this would soon have an effect on Diluc, acting as a relaxant and coaxing his muscles to sag even further forward; so much so, in fact, that (Y/N) almost felt his form slip off of the couch that they both occupied.

His eyes widened. In a spur-of-the-moment action, he shifted his body to better allow for Diluc to lean on. "Here..." he mumbled, and only then did the weight of the man finally rest completely upon his chest. This time, (Y/N)'s hands were occupied with stroking the top of his hair, massaging and placing firm pressure atop his scalp.

Hot - nearing the precipice of scalding - breaths blew onto his neck. They were fleeting in nature, and yet still sent an exhilarating sort of shiver shooting through his spine. Nerves akin to tingling were left coursing through his veins.

There that scent was again, (Y/N) faintly realised: a blend of berries and oak exuding from locks of fiery amber. It enchanted him, lured him in. Before he even knew what was happening, he had engaged - leaning forward to give a gentle kiss to the tip of Diluc's nose. The returning nuzzle he felt only sent his thoughts into a frenzy, becoming fuzzy with every minute longer they spent in each others company.

Blushes the same shade as an inferno spread across the both of their cheeks.

Extra! (tw! NFSW joke)

"I still don't understand how you can stomach that... grape juice of yours."

An exasperated breath of air escaped Diluc's mouth, followed closely by his sigh of, "Darling..."

"No, seriously. It tastes like five fruits crammed into one bitter concoction, not even mentioning the texture of it," said Vision-holder spoke. Laced within his tone of voice was a subtle bit of utter seriousness, yet at the same time, it held a spark of light-heartedness. He noted on, this time with a notable boost to his charisma, "I can name one thing that tastes and feels better on my tongue, I guarantee that."

It was with a small, fond smile that Diluc allowed his partner's voice to filter through his ears - it felt like waves of water, of music, affecting the whole of his senses in a soothing way. His eyes gazed downward, idly staring at the plates of meat and vegetables laid before them both.

The tilting down of his head, however, did not one thing to halt (Y/N)'s expression to shifting when out of Diluc's sight. Knowing and sly, a smirk settled across his features; as if aware of something that his fiancé was not (that something being a particular joke he had just now spoken without thought).

Thanks for reading! :)

Like my Albedo x Reader oneshot, this was also an old work that I'd wrote for a mutual of mine.

Please inform me of any grammatical errors in this post.

[writerpeach]

Lights & Cameras

Jeon Somi x Male Reader

5575 words

Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.

Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.

It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.

Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.

You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.

Fashion never made sense.

There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.

You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.

Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.

One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.

Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.

Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.

Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.

This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.

The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.

Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.

Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.

Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.

Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.

The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.

“Thirty minute break!”

An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.

The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.

“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.

“You must be bored out of your mind.”

You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”

“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.

“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.

“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.

Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.

“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.

“You want me to help you change?”

Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”

Thankfully nobody was in earshot.

“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.

“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”

Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.

“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.

If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.

But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.

You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.

“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.

Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.

“You’re so naughty, Somi.”

“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.

Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.

She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.

It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.

You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.

Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.

“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.

“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.

Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.

She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.

Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.

Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.

Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.

Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.

“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.

“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.

You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.

Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.

You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.

“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.

“So suck my cock.”

Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.

"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.

“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.

You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.

“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.

Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.

“Fuck, baby…”

Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.

“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.

“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”

Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.

The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.

“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.

“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”

“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”

Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.

Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.

Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.

She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.

“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.

“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.

“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”

Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.

Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.

Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.

“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.

“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.

“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”

Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.

Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.

That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.

“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not

caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.

Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.

Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.

You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.

If only her staff could see her like this.

“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”

You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.

“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.

“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.

The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.

There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.

Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.

“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.

“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.

“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”

Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.

“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.

Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.

You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.

“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.

“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”

“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”

“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”

Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.

“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”

Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.

“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”

You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.

Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.

“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.

You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.

“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.

Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.

Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.

It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.

“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.

Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.

That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.

“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.

“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”

Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.

You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.

Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.

"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"

You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.

It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.

“I’m fucking cumming!”

It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.

You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.

Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.

You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.

“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”

“You asked me to.”

“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.

Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.

“Jeon Somi to the set please!”

The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.

“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”

“Of course, baby.”

She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.

You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.

You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.

Somi had a lot of explaining to do.

[sadomas0chist]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw // fluff

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 4k

tags/warnings: slow burn (?), penetrative sex, dom jean, praising kink, slight breeding kink, oral sex (male receiving), fluff, confessions, cute jean (yes this needs a warning) cheesiness.

synopsis: you discover something jean has been keeping for himself and it ends up adding all the puzzle pieces together.

a.n: i don’t usually add songs for you to listen to while reading my work, but if you want to get in the mood stream Last Days Of Summer by Summer Walker. thank me later.

i would also like to add that this was meant to be a short series. i got other fan-fiction ideas and need to answer some of your requests. also, i know this part is kind of cheesy but jean is a big softie i can’t help it.

“Connie, what’s taking you so long?” I yelled from our porch, swirling my car keys around my finger. I heard more shuffling coming from our apartment before Connie rushed out, Jean following him, throwing his hoodie on, covering the shirt that was squeezing his muscles.

“I was looking for my dab pen,” he took a hit and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed pushing his shoulder making him miss the step and almost colliding with the ground. I snickered and walked past Jean to my car door before he grabbed my arm and pushed me back.

“Passenger seat babe.” he looked down at me with his lazy smile. I scoffed swatting his arm away, only to be lifted from the ground. “Jean you prick!” I yelled moving my legs around.

“And I’m the kid.” Connie laughed getting in the backseat, clearly not suspicious of his homie’s behavior. I sighed getting into the passenger seat and crossed my arms.

Jean mirrored my action, before cussing, as he felt squeezed by how tiny the space was. “Damn aren’t you a small thing?” he teased backing up the seat so he could feel more comfortable. He smacked my thigh making my eyes widen. I looked down to see him holding out his hand, motioning me to give him the keys. I rolled my eyes and slammed them down his hand. He chuckled before shaking his head and mumbled something underneath his breath.

He wrapped his arm around my seat, tilting his head backward, putting the car in reverse, and slowly drove back. He winked at me before he shifted gears. The car ride was basically Connie singing out loud to songs and Jean casually joining in, their interaction reminding me of Hitch and I.

After what happened last night, I texted the girls’ group chat and told them everything that happened and how Jean was suddenly becoming more and more possessive which was honestly uncalled for. If I want to overthink it, he was always somewhat flirtier with me than he was with any girl when we used to hang out back in the day. However, Sasha and Mikasa didn’t elaborate much into it as they told me to shrug it off, whilst Hitch was rather excited about me having a ‘sneaky link’.

And honestly, I’d be lying if I said he didn’t turn me on… I mean look at him. He’s at least 6 feet tall with sexy sleeve tattoos and a gorgeous mullet. His stubble fit him perfectly and his jaw was sharp. He looked so different and delicious.

“We’re here!” Connie shouted into my ear, shaking me off of my thoughts. Jean had already parked and was taking his seatbelt off. I followed his gesture and got out of the car, carefully closing the door behind me, Connie already outside taking a few hits of his dab pen. Our gaze locked, his lips instantly forming into a smile as he threw his arm around my shoulders and brought my head closer to his lips, kissing my temple. I grinned wrapping my hand around his torso and leaned my head on his shoulder.

I was lucky to have a brother like him. He always made sure I was okay and had everything I need and wanted. He was my support system and I couldn’t ask for more. “All good?” he mumbled, tilting his slightly towards Jean who was typing something on his phone, probably waiting for us before going into the diner.

I nodded and he squeezed my arm. “Come on, let’s go inside, the weather is chilly today.” Jean held the door open as we walked in and spotted an empty table. It was connected to a couch, two other chairs placed on the opposite side of the table.

I sat on the couch, my back relaxing into the soft red leather, before feeling the seat dip next to me. I tilted my head, only to be met with Jean’s cocky expression. Connie managed to sit on one of the chairs and tapped his fingers on the wooden table. “Y’all in the mood for burger and fries?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Jean stated leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs. I nodded and took out my phone from my pocket setting it on the table. We called over for the waitress and placed our orders. “I forgot to ask you, how are your studies going y/n?” he added, dropping his head on his fist that rested against the wood and looked at me. Connie rested his elbows on the table, intrigued by the conversation.

“I’m doing good actually. I still have some things to get done and I’ll finally have some free time for myself. I honestly can’t wait until I’m done with this semester. It’s so tough and for what.” I whined, dropping my head against my crossed arms. His hand wrapped around my shoulder and pushed me towards him, my head colliding with his chest. Taken off guard, my arms wrapped around his torso. “Aw, come on you’ll do great, you got nothing to worry about.” he patted my head and gently stroked my hair. I blushed at his move, my stomach forming a knot. He was being extremely soft and gentle and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't surprising.

“Here you go.” the waitress cheered placing our food down. She eyed Jean before averting her gaze from him as he pushed me closer to him, my head closer to his chest. I breathed into his cologne and managed to hear his heartbeat. Fast. His heart was beating so fucking fast.

Connie didn’t seem to mind as he laughed at his phone before turning it to Jean, showing him the picture of a half-naked model showing off her ass, a man who looked to be her boyfriend standing next to her. “Baldie I’m still here.” I scrunched my face. “Although the dude is kinda hot,” I added. Once the following words left my lips, Jean’s hand swiftly moved down my ass to grab it, making me slightly jump. I looked up to see him glaring down at me then looked back at Connie’s phone. Did this just happen?

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” He cocked his eyebrow making Connie roll his eyes. “Man you used to like it when I showed you pictures like that." he shook his head locking his phone. He stayed silent for a few seconds before pointing at Jean with a big grin. "Oh my god, you are seeing someone!” he whispered.

I removed myself from Jean’s grasp and adjusted my clothes as I dived into my food, enjoying the warm feeling down my throat. “Nah dude, although I must admit that I've been thinking nonstop about someone lately,” he confessed taking a bite of his burger, Connie doing vulgar movements with his hands before he did the same.

“Jesus Connie,” I whined throwing a fried potato at him. “We’re eating.”

“Um, excuse me?” He scoffed as Jean laughed, muttering a small 'here we go', obviously aware of what my brother was about to say next. “The Jean Kirschtein I know doesn’t catch feelings. This dude is a damn sex machine. Which I can relate to but you know what I’m saying." he raised his hands up. "Now tell me, who got you so wrapped around their fingers you can’t even flirt with other women now?” He paused before adding, “ And don’t think I forgot how you pushed off that girl who tried to grind on you two days ago at the club.” I frowned, all of this not making any sense to me. How could he be sleeping with me but seeing someone else at the same time?

I felt sick, my fingers dropping the sauce I was about to pour on my fries as I excused myself to the bathroom. I made my way into the small area and looked at my reflection. I felt dirty. I felt used. Was I going to wreck a whole relationship? Or whatever he calls it.

The door swung open minutes after, revealing Jean. He had a serious expression on his face as he approached me, my ass now pressed against the sink, his tall frame towering me.

“Why’d you leave?” he questioned moving my hair from my face, cupping my cheeks. “I wanted to wash my hands,” I replied trying to free myself from his grasp but miserably failed. I frowned as I tried to push him away again, but his hands grabbed my wrists holding them down. “I don’t believe you, I think you got jealous,” he smirked, his lips inches away from mine. I glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction he was seeking.

“Jean let me go. Someone might walk in and Connie is waiting for us outside, also, the food won’t stay hot for long and I want to-“

“I was talking about you silly.” he interrupted me, his thumb now rubbing my bottom lip. “You’re so fucking gorgeous it’s unreal,” he mumbled. “Can I kiss you?”

What was happening… I stared into his eyes that were focusing on my lips. Could he be telling the truth? What if he just wants to get in my- oh wait, he already did… Fuck that was so overwhelming.

“Jean I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Yes or no?” I thought for a moment before softly nodding. “I need to hear it.”

“I want you to kiss me…” I whispered almost as if I didn’t want anyone to hear me, including him. I’ve always felt different around Jean and I never knew why, at least until now. He smiled lifting my head up with his finger under my chin, his lips resting against mine gently. My hands gripped onto his hoodie, kissing him with much passion.

I felt safe. I felt good. I felt content.

“You got my heart working overtime, y/n.” he confessed. I wasn’t able to process everything as it all felt like a fever dream. What if I just wake up and it turns out to be a dream. Did he just confess that he likes me in a diner’s restroom? My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts furiously rushing through my brain.

After Jean left to study in France, we never kept in touch. It is true that we used to be friends because of his friendship with Connie and it always felt different from my other friendships with other men like Eren or Reiner, but the distance and the lack of communication turned us into strangers and killed the ‘connection’ that was bonding us. I thought it was just a tiny teenage crush, but ever since he came back, everything returned to the way it used to be.

“Connie is probably getting worried about me.” I said making him let go of my grasp, his eyes still holding the same expression as before. I made my way out of the restrooms and slid my hands into my pockets. “Hey, I was about to follow you, you good?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled at him and sat back down taking small bites of my food.

“Y/n, you know you can talk to me about anything right?” he took a sip of his soda looking at me worryingly. “Of course, I’m fine really.” I reached out to squeeze his hand. A few minutes went by and Jean was back on the table with us. We jumped from a conversation to another, casually laughing as we brought back the old days.

Connie proposed to drive back and we didn’t mind since we both fell full from the food. Jean sat in the passenger seat as I lead down on the backseat, texting the girls every single detail of what happened today. It didn’t take them long to start bombarding me with replies.

‘Holy fuck he said what now? He’s fucking WHIPPED.’

‘I did hear him saying something about a girl when we hung out with Connie four days ago but I would have never thought that it would be about you…’

Seriously Sasha? I sighed and locked my phone dropping it on my chest. It didn’t take us long to arrive at the apartment we were now sharing with him.

***

I dropped on my bed, stripped down naked as my blanket was the only material covering me. I thought about what Jean told me back in that diner. I sighed closing my eyes. As I was almost about to fall asleep, my phone chimed on my nightstand.

I reached out to grab it, the message showing on my lock-screen making me open wildly my eyes.

-jean

you up? if you are, can i come into ur room?

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over my keyboard, occasionally typing something then deleting it.

-me

why? wassup?

It didn’t take him long to text me back.

-jean

i can’t sleep and i want to talk to you

I sighed typing a simple ‘okay’ and got up to put a shirt on. I heard a light knock on my door as I slid on the fabric, my hand reaching out to turn the doorknob.

“Hi,” I stepped aside, indicating him to come in before carefully closing the door. He sat on my bed and tapped on the mattress. I sat next to him and waited for him to talk about whatever he’s been wanting to get off his chest.

“About what I said earlier, uhm,” he cleared his throat.

“If you’re here to say that you didn’t mean it, you could have said it over text.” I assumed raising my eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened to me and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any bullshit, especially after getting my feelings mixed up. If he was about to mess around, I should do the same and ignore whatever I was feeling, hoping it would fade away over time.

“No, why would I do that?” he frowned and looked at me weirdly. Oh well, spoke too soon I guess. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Listen y/n,” he paused searching for the words. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get laid. We made an agreement and if I just wanted to have sex with you I wouldn’t have said anything about well, liking you.”

I stayed silent waiting for him to finish. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room as it peeked through my window. It was quite peaceful. “I think, no, I know I’ve liked you for a while. I never acted on it because your brother once threatened me jokingly about messing me up if I hurt you, and regarding the person I used to be, I would have most probably ended up hurting you and because of that, I decided to sleep on whatever I was feeling and hoped I'd move on from it. But holy fuck you and grew into such a smart and beautiful woman, I couldn’t help but let my feelings for you emerge again.” He cupped my cheek with his hand bringing me closer.

Fucking hell someone pinch me right now, I must be dreaming.

“However if you don’t like me back, or don’t want to hook up with me anymore, I’d totally understand.” I stared at him as I felt like I was looking at a different person. Now I get why Connie was so surprised when he heard Jean talking like that back at the diner. That wasn’t the Jean I was used to, or at least the Jean he became when he left for college. I wasn’t familiar with this new character development if I might call it.

“Why… why are you telling me all of this now?” I whispered, shifting in my seat to sit closer to him, our knees slightly brushing against each other. He brought his hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me closer to him. “You got my mind going crazy.” and with that, I pressed my lips against his, instantly feeling his lips kiss me back.

I straddled his lap and slid my tongue between his lips, our kiss sloppy and slow. His hands moved down to grip my ass, pushing me further to him, my bare cunt brushing against the soft fabric of his shorts. A moan escaped my lips as he gripped the hem of my shirt, lifting it, my nipples exposed to the chilly air. "Wait..." I pulled away and rested my hands on his chest. "We're gonna have to tell Connie."

He smiled and reached out to kiss me again. "First thing tomorrow. I don't think your brother is that oblivious anyway." he chuckled and squeezed my hips. I laughed, bringing his face closer to mine kissing him gently.

Our make-out session became more urgent ad rushed. Jean lied back, his hands resting on my waist as I took off my shirt. His hands reached out to grab my breast, fondling it with his big hand. My hips moved against him, the feeling of wanting to be filled by him becoming unshakeable. Removing myself off his hips, I crawled down and pulled down his sweats along with his briefs, his erection slapping against his stomach. I smirked at him as I began pumping his length, soft groans escaping his lips. I swirled my tongue over his tip and slit before sliding him down my throat, coating him with my spit. "Shit," his hips bucked forward, his cock going deeper down my throat. I started bobbing my head, my tongue running over his underside, feeling the pulsation of his prominent vein. Our eyes locked, his mouth agape and his chest slightly rising from his deep breathing. His hand fell on his eyes as he threw his head back, his fat cock now throbbing.

“Y/n, ah, fuck-“ he hissed grabbing a fistful of my hair and guided my head. I knew he was close and it made me wet as well. My fingers were already rubbing circles on my sensitive bud, my climax as close as his. I removed his dick from my mouth and straddled his lap. I aligned him to my entrance and slowly sunk onto him, sighs leaving both of our lips.

He felt insanely deep within me, his size stretching perfectly. I rested my hands on his chest as I ground on him, his hand lacing around my neck to bring me closer to him, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped in my mouth as his hand made their way to my ass, squeezing my cheeks and moving me upwards. I moaned into his mouth, my nipples brushing against his chest. I sat back up, my hands prompted back on his chest as I bounced my ass on him.

“Ride my cock baby just like that.” he moaned out. We were both already close to our orgasm, the sensitivity sending us off the edge. “You ride me so good, but-“ he sat up pushing me off him. “I want to fuck it in you,” he smirked pulling me off the bed and walking me to the wall, my back pressed against it. He wrapped his arms underneath my thighs and lifted me up, my legs snaking around him.

“Now stay quiet while I stuff you eh?” he breathed, pushing his tip inside me before thrusting his hips forward, almost hitting my cervix. My face hid in the crook of his neck, doing my best to silence my moans. My back moved against the cold wall, his whimpers and moans growing louder in my ear.

I shut my eyes close when he began rolling his hips faster, my orgasm rushing through my body. “Jean…” I whimpered tugging on his hair, my heels digging in his back. My arm was wrapped underneath his, my fingers scratching his back. I clenched around him making him hiss and fuck me harder, indicating that he was also close to reaching his climax.

“You wanna come with me?” I nodded staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “Yeah…” I mumbled out, biting down on my lower lip to keep quiet. “Yeah?” he mocked with a smirk before he started kissing my neck, occasionally leaving small bites next to my collarbone.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him, my thighs shaking as my orgasm ripped through me. He quickly followed ropes of cum shooting inside me. He whimpered, stroking himself a little bit more before pulling out and carefully putting me down. As soon as my feet touched the floor, his semen began leaking out of my opening down my leg.

“Well shit better clean that.” he ran his fingers up my legs before pushing his cum back in me making me gasp. “You’re good now,” he smirked before lifting me off again, this time in bridal style as he walked me to the bed, carefully putting me down. “I would’ve loved to shower with you,” he stroked my cheek, his body hovering over me. “But I don’t want your brother walking in on us like that. At least not before I tell him everything.” he poked my nose before kissing my forehead.

I nodded my head, smiling at him. “I like you so fucking much,” he admitted once again, this time his lips kissing mine.

“I like you too.” he cocked an eyebrow at my confession. “I knew it,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

***

“Uhh, back the fuck up.” Connie pointed at Jean who was wrapping his arm around me in the kitchen. “You two like each other?” he waved his finger between us before stuffing his fork in his mouth again. I nodded and pushed myself closer to Jean. “Oh no.” he groaned pushing himself off his stool.

“No no no no no…” he repeated in annoyance as he walked past us. I frowned, turning to see him throwing himself on the couch. He threw his head back, another groan leaving his lips as he ran his hands us his face.

“I thought you’d be happy for me, what’s-“

“You had sex while I was in here?” he accused us dramatically in a high-pitched voice, faking his tears. Jean instantly laughed at his friend’s accusation. I let out a sigh of relief and shook my head before laughing at Connie who was fake gagging.

“We only did it the night you saw us together.” I played off. Connie gave me a ‘you think I’m stupid’ look and sighed.

“It was an everyday thing.” Jean corrected making me elbow his waist. He winced pinching my hip earning another hit. “Seriously man?” Connie whined. I mean, at least he wasn’t mad about us liking each other. The only thing that irked him, which is by the way overdramatized and ends up being one of his silly plays, is the fact that I had sex with him when he was sound asleep.

Connie sighed, his annoyed expression turning into a sly one. “I knew you two were fucking!” he laughed sticking his tongue out and clapping his hands. “Now that I’m positive that my sister got cuffed by someone I trust, I can finally sleep in peace.” I rolled my eyes before raising my hand to smack him but Jean pulled me closer to him making it impossible for me to move.

I looked up only to be met with his browns orbs already looking down at me with pure adoration. I could tell he was going to be one of the best things that have ever happened to me and I couldn’t be more thankful. Connie was still talking but I didn’t hear a word he said. Instead, I buried my face into his red hoodie and held him tightly. Who would have thought that my insignificant crush would actually make me feel so lucky?

“-she was and still is everything I’ve always wanted.” I heard him say before kissing my forehead.